Mine to protect
by Loveforthestory
Summary: When Connor returns with all of them to Willoughby after the war, things between him and Bass are worse than ever. Connor starts drinking more and becomes more aggressive towards him and Miles. Bass doesn't know what to do, now he is slowly losing his kid. When what is left of his life is going to hell, it is Charlie who is there for him.
1. Chapter 1

He should be worried about the fucking mustard gas in the train on his left. But when Miles steps away, all that he sees and all that matters is her. _Her._ When he finally has enough fucking courage to look up, her eyes are not filled with the anger and hate he expected to find there. He does see guilt and fear and honest relief. It almost brings him to his damn knees.

He should look away, but he can't. She nods and it is barely visible. But it is all he can see. She nods to him. With gratitude in her eyes _for him_. Acknowledging something that has been there for such a long time now.

And they both know, he knows she knows now, that he would never ever let anything happen to her. With an unconscious Neville on the damn ground, so much unsaid between the both of them is reaching the surface.

He swallows in the shadows of a train and the Texan night, when she shows him more of her than she has ever done before.

She has been drifting away from him. But tonight, here, today, with their eyes locked and her heartbeat so close to his he can almost feel it, she is closer than ever.

One year later

He doesn't want to talk to anyone. He just wants to find his damn kid. The rest of the world can go to hell right now. His hands are in the pockets of his leather jacket. His eyes are fixed at a point in the distance. He is ignoring everybody around him when he walks through the main street of Willoughby.

Another month of missions and miserable life lies behind him. The war is over but there is still enough hidden kaki to kill to cool down his hot need for revenge.

Another month of fighting side to side with the man that is mixed inside his own blood no matter what the fuck happens or no matter what the moron says. Another month of fighting side to side with _her_. Somehow Charlotte had made the decision to keep on fighting with Miles. _And him._

With him, with Miles, but without his kid. Connor came back with all of them to Willoughby after the war had ended last summer to try and live his life in Willoughby. Things between them are getting worse with every month they spend here. He can see the misery in his kid's eyes. But this is his kid, his son, and he will not stop fighting for him. And no matter what happens, he will _never_ leave his kid behind.

When he finally finds Connor in an alley near the bar, he is drunk and about to punch some loser asshole in the face. A small crowd has gathered around them.

'Dammit,' He curses while he shoves some people out of the way.

He grabs Connor's arm and yanks him away from his rage and his fight. When the crowd realizes it is Sebastian Monroe who is breaking up the fight, everybody steps away to give him the space he demands with the dark focussed look in his eyes.

He can feel the tension radiate of Connor. He can smell the alcohol on his breath. He is breathing harshly and when Bass looks at him it is like looking in a fucking mirror for one agonizing second. He swallows that thought away when he tries to make Connor listen to him.

'Hey, what the hell happened ?' There is rough frustration in his voice that covers the worry that has been there for months.

Both Monroe men are facing each other. This is not the first time Connor gets himself in trouble. This is not the first time he is drinking way too fucking much. And this is not the first time he is standing in front of his son like this. Connor's rage and hard eyes remind him of a day that is carved in his heart. A day where Connor had almost betrayed him, where his own kid had almost let Tom fucking Neville shoot him. That day had left invisible scars inside of him.

Disbelieve had been drumming inside his ears in the same way horror filled heartbeats had filled his chest when Connor had stood in front of him, ready to step out of the way to let Neville shoot more heartbeat and one last impossible plea to make him understand how much his promise to Miles meant to him and Connor _had_ chosen him. They had killed Neville. They had killed Scanlon. But he still feels like he lost a part of his kid that day.

'Come on Connor, let's go, all right?' The blue in Bass' eyes is softer now.

'Stay the hell away from me.' Connor lashes out when he steps away from him.

Connor's hands are in the pockets of his jeans and there is a loneliness in his step that crushes Bass' heart when he has to watch how his kid walks away from him.

* * *

It's two days later and he hasn't seen Connor. Bass is standing in front of the Porter house and he really fucking doesn't want to walk inside. But he knows Miles is probably in there, playing house with his girls.

Maybe he, or Charlie, knows something. He walks into the kitchen and lets the kitchen door slam shut behind him. Rachel looks up, standing in front of Miles who is sitting on a kitchen chair.

'Connor here?' His voice sounds gruff.

'No.' Her eyes are cold when they meet his. 'But he did find Miles.' She nods to the bruises and the cut on Miles' face she is disinfecting.

Bass' mouth opens slightly. He knows Rachel takes it as a personal victory now things between him and Connor are hard. He knows things between Miles and Connor are bad. But this, this is new.

There is a cold smile in her eyes. 'Are you surprised? Surprised he did this to Miles?' Her voice sounds like a lioness sneaking up on her prey.

She cleans the small wound above Miles' eye. When she looks up there is burning loathing in her eyes and voice . 'Connor was always going to turn out like this. Your son, your blood, remember?'

Her words hurt like hell. But more than that, Bass realizes she is enjoying this. He can see it in her eyes. And right there and then, he wants to snap her fucking neck. 'Well, by that logic, Charlie is going to end the world some day.' There is loathing and irritation in his voice he can barely contain, for so much venom aimed at him from the bitch from hell.

'That's enough, both of you.' Miles' voice booms through the kitchen with a tired frustration in it that matches the look in his eyes.

The three of them look up when they hear the sound of boots on the wooden kitchen floor behind them. They all look up to find her looking at them. Charlie stands in the doorway of the kitchen. Her arms are crossed before her chest.

'Cha...Charlie..' Bass swallows and reacts first. He has enough of Rachel's bullshit but he does not want to drag Charlie into all of this now. Fuck. He can only mutter her name in a very pathetic way when he sees the flash of real hurt in her eyes.

Things have been bad with Connor, he knows that. And just because Rachel is being her holier than thou self and never misses an opportunity to tell him how much his kid is the source of all evil, just like he is, it does not mean he wants to hurt Charlie.

'Kid...we...' Miles starts.

Charlie ignores her mother. She ignores Miles. She looks at Bass.

When he finally has the balls to really look at her, the look in her eyes makes him swallow thickly. Her voice is flat when she speaks. 'Found Connor. Dragged his ass to your place and he is passed out on your couch. Thought you wanted to know.

His heart starts to stammer inside his chest when he realizes she came here to find him to tell him his kid was safe. 'I...' there is a thank you forming inside his fucking brain but her eyes tell him to stop talking and go to hell.

Miles takes a step towards Charlie but she walks out of the door without looking at him. They can hear her boots on the porch outside.

'Happy now, huh?' Bass eyes are filled with steel blue when he looks at Rachel.

Rachel meets his eyes with a bitter huff of air. Miles is about to say something to him but he is fucking done.

'Don't bother, I am out of there.'

When Bass walks outside he can see her across the street, with long deep blonde hair that brushes her angry shoulders. A part of him wants to follow her. His life is a fucking mess and the last fucking thing he wanted to do is fuck up whatever is there between him and her. Not when things are what they are between them now.

He fucked up in Philly. She found him in Vegas. She tried to kill him. He saved her. She saved him. They fought. He went to Mexico. He came back. They went to Vegas. They fucked. Her looking at his kid and the way Connor had grinned at her when he had found them in a bar after his negotiations with Duncan, had filled him with unexpected possessive rage.

That rage and the fact he almost died in a dog fight in Gould's tent and the fact Charlotte had fucking stayed to fight for his life, it had all exploded into him yanking her close and her hands grabbing his shirt. He had pushed her against one of the trailers before they had walked to Duncan's camp. It had been fast and an angry fight of lust, giving in, want and rage. When he had filled her for the first time, with one certain deep thrust and a low growl coming deep from within his chest, her eyes had been filled with anger and lust.

She had drifted away from him after New Vegas. Until that night, one year ago when her standing in front of him had yanked him back to her. Knowing that things between them had not been over. Knowing that whatever it was that was happening between the both of them was real. Because he had seen it in her eyes, that night in the shadows of a train in the middle of a Texan night. Her eyes had been filled with guilt for killing that Neville kid. Filled with believing she deserved to die. Filled with relieve and gratefulness she didn't. He will never forget her small nod after he knocked Neville to the damn ground, barely visible but still there when their eyes had locked.

And a part of him wants to follow her while he looks at her in the distance with visible hurt in her tensed shoulders. But he has no idea in hell what he is going to say to her. So he watches her when a deep angry curse fills his head.

Fuck.

* * *

 **Author's Note:** **Some things are different at the start of this story: Connor and Charlie did not happen in New Vegas and Connor did not betray Bass and came back with him to Willoughby at the end of the second season. Bass' character is the heart of this story. I am really looking forward to explore the dynamics between Connor and Bass, Bass and Miles, Connor and Miles and Bass and Charlie in this story.** **Love from Love**


	2. Chapter 2

It's twenty four hours later and her mind still keeps on annoying her with the repetition of his words. _Well, by that logic, Charlie is going to end the world some day._ His words echo in her mind. She can still feel the sharp hate and accusations in a kitchen that was too small for all of their bullshit. It's a Friday night and she is on her way to the local bar. while his words and the depth of his voice keeps her company. She is pissed he dragged her into all of it with rough mockery in his words and bitter blue steel in his eyes.

She is used to him being an asshole. _Crude_. Smug. Unpredictable. But after everything they went through, after the way they had fought _together, for and with each other,_ after wordless conversations and all those months on the road with him, she had hoped she was more to him than just a pawn in a hate filled history between him, Miles and her mother.

And because of that, because she doesn't want to be something, anything or anybody to Monroe, she is pissed _._ At him. _At herself_.

She came back with him. After she found him in New Vegas. After she tried to kill him. After the war. And now he's here. She's here. She thinks about what an asshole he can be. To everyone. But she also knows how much more he can be. _To her._

He isn't just the man she came back with. Not anymore. But her heart doesn't feel the need to define this. To shape it. To name it. There has never been time. There is no need to start now.

Frustration and anger and wishing she does not care are battling inside of her. Her angry steps have taken her from her apartment to the local bar.

After two drinks and ignoring some asshole she is definitely not interested in, she is about to order another drink and tell the full of himself asshole on her right to go to hell. But then she notices how Connor is trying to get into Sue Matthews pants with a wide grin on his face across the bar.

The bar is crowded. He is drunk.

She knows that Connor knows that Sue is seeing somebody else. He probably also knows that somebody will be here tonight. But she knows this is not about Sue. He is looking for another fight.

A sigh moves through her shoulders. She puts her glass back on the bar in front of her before she walks over to Connor.

The only reason why she is walking over to him is because she can look through all the ego and bragging. She knows that underneath all of that is so much more. She can see through his anger and macho behaviour.

His eyes hide it well, but she knows they are there. The bruises of parents who have never been there the way they should have. Of not understanding why the hell their world is what it is. Of never feeling enough or whole again.

She knows because she knows those bruises so well herself.

When she is standing next to him, she can smell the alcohol on his breath. She smiles to Sue. And then, she looks at Connor.

'Hey, why don't you buy me another drink?' She tries, distracting Connor with the possibility of even more whiskey.

Connor turns around. She can see deep irritation in his eyes. 'Why don't you leave me the hell alone?' he snaps, his voice is thick with alcohol and annoyance.

Before she can say anything, Bass' leather jacket is brushing against her shoulder.

'Hey, watch it,' Bass growls, warning him while he looks at Connor. '..don't talk to her like that.'

'I'm sorry, dad.' There is heated mocking anger hidden in his words. He moves his hands in the pockets of his jeans in a _casual I don't give a shit way_ that enrages Bass even more.

Bass locks eyes with Connor and Charlie can hear him breathe next to her. His eyes are heavy with steel irritation.

Charlie is done with both Monroe men for tonight. 'I am going to get myself another drink..' She looks at Monroe, avoiding looking at him for too long when she nods to Connor. 'Good luck with him.'

She is on her way to the bar when his voice stops her.

'Hey, can we talk?' His voice is the kind of low she can feel inside her belly.

Maybe somebody else would miss the plea in his eyes. But she knows him and she can look straight through the indifference in his wide shoulders and the smug gesture of his hand on the hilt of his sword.

The fact that she notices that plea, makes her even more pissed. She remembers his words from yesterday. She almost takes one step closer to him, but she stops herself before her anger can pull her even closer to him.

'You tell me Monroe...do we have anything to talk about?' Charlie looks straight at him. She is standing close enough to Monroe to feel his breath on her face.

The muscles in his neck and jaws respond to her words and the blue fire up in his eyes when she uses his last name. She breathes. He breathes. And then she leaves him and everything that is burning in his eyes behind when she walks away from him.


	3. Chapter 3

Bass pinches the bridge of his nose. He has a headache from hell. It is almost midnight and he is still in his damn office. He needs to go through a pile of reports before tomorrow morning. Frank had some nobody dump them on his desk. It is his way to remind him who is in charge now.

He moves his fingers around a glass of whiskey. He tries to focus on the report in front of him. He tries to let the whiskey do his work. But it doesn't work. It never seems to work. Not anymore. Not like it used to do.

His thoughts drift to Connor and to the almost desperate worry of not knowing how he can reach his kid.

Since they came back to Willoughby, Connor has been putting more and more distance between them. He is drinking too much. He is looking for fights. He is pushing him away. He doesn't want to talk. He is aggressive to Miles. He is being an asshole to Charlie.

But he can see the hurt in his kid's eyes. The kid is a Monroe and it is like looking in a damn mirror. It's like looking at himself, seeing the man who he was after something broke in him for good since the day he had lost his parents.

He can see the fallout and the scars of what happened to Connor since the day Emma, _and Miles_ , had decided it was better to hide his kid in Mexico. _From him._ Old pain returns, ripping an old wound open from the inside.

He remembers how Connor told him how he had lost everything again in Mexico after his family died, and how that Nunez son of a bitch had used that isolation, to make him one of his own. Connor rarely talks about Miles and the time he spent with him on the road. But Bass always hears the silent rage behind everything Connor is not telling him. He remembers how much it had fucking hurt to hear what happened to his kid, to his son, _his blood_ , after Emma and Miles had made a decision that would damage _his_ kid forever.

It's why he wants to fucking kill Rachel every time he has to listen to her holier than thou crap about him and Connor. She had left her family on the side of a road to walk all the way to Philly.

She had told him and Miles, and she had almost convinced them _, including herself_ , it was to protect Ben and her kids. But he had always known the truth. She came to Philly for Miles.

He had asked her, on a long winter night in Independence hall back in Philly, with bitter coldness and loathing in his words, how fucking Miles would help to protect the family she had left out there. She hadn't answered, her eyes filling with hate to mask hurt.

He would never ever understand how she was capable to do the things she did. If he had known about Connor he would have never left him. He would have been all that mattered from that day.

There is a soft knock on the door that interrupts his worry for Connor. 'Come.'

A young officer opens the door. 'There is somebody on his way to see you sir.'

'Not now.' It is an order and warning at the same time.

'He says it is urgent, sir.'

Bass wants to say something but another voice fills the hallway outside his office. 'Get out my way, boy.'

When Bass looks up, Walnut himself is walking into his damn office. One look at him and he knows he is not here to talk about whores or whiskey.

He gets up from behind his desk. His heartbeat is stronger and faster. Frank's eyes are serious.

'It's your kid, Monroe.'

* * *

Four hours later

Bass watches Connor. He is focusing on every damn breath his kid takes. It is all that matters now. It is all that is here in this room.

He is sitting next to him. _Alone._ Lonely desperate minutes tick away. The hospital room around him feels too big. Memories of another child, small and beautiful in his arms, are too damn close for him to carry them on his own.

Gene had told him about alcohol poisoning and a concussion while his heart had beaten strongly inside his damn chest with dread and cold panic. They had brought Connor to the small hospital after two Rangers had found him in an alley behind the bar. The doc's words are a blur after many hours of sitting next to Connor.

He sits. He stares. He waits. He moves his hand over his face. The familiar sound of boots on the floor behind him pull him away from the dark walls that have been closing in on him.

Miles doesn't say a word when he grabs a chair and sits down next to Bass. And then, there is a slender but strong hand on his shoulder. And when he looks up, she is there. He expects her to move her hand away from his shoulder. But it is still there when she looks at him, with a softer blue in her eyes.

She nods at him when the strong solace of the warmth of her skin moves through his shirt, connecting with his skin, bringing something human and real into the room together with all his demons and worries. They will stay with him until sunrise, neither of them willing to leave his side.

One day later

She is there on his damn couch when he gets home. He has spent the whole day in the hospital and by Connors side. Gene and Miles have convinced him to get some sleep at home now Connor is slowly doing better. Miles assured him he would stay with Connor.

The sound of his key in his lock wakes her up. She moves some hair out of her face. Her slender fingers move a lock of deep blonde hair behind her ear.

He throws his jacket on the table in front of him. He doesn't look at her. 'Miles asked you to be here?' There is gruff distance in his voice. He wants to be fucking alone, although finding her here, breaks through the dark walls around his worry.

'He didn't have to ask.' Charlie looks at him. He's tired. His curls are sticking to his forehead and neck. His eyes are darker and deeper.

'How's Connor? ' When he finally turns around, she can feel the exact moment he really looks at her. His shoulders relax and there is less roughness in his voice.

'Better...Miles stayed with him. Told me to get some sleep.'

'You need sleep. You look like shit.'

His eyes lock with hers. There are no more questions after that. They have both learned when to stop asking them. After two years on the road she can read him and she knows when he needs his space. Somehow he has figured out the same. It is the one of the reasons him and her on the road or deep in a fight, works for her.

He walks into his kitchen and when he returns he puts a bottle of whiskey and two glasses on the small table in front of her. He sits down on the couch next to her before he pours her a glass of whiskey. Without asking her he pours her another drink when her glass is empty.

* * *

She must have fallen asleep because when she wakes up he is asleep and one of his blankets is wrapped around her. She knows it is his. His deep scent in the fabric is close. His eyes are closed. Exhaustion is written in the lines on his face. A sheen of sweat that covers his neck and forehead.

She gets up from her place on the couch, grabbing the blanket that has been keeping her warm. She slowly walks to him. She moves the blanket around his shoulders. When her fingers touch his shoulder he wakes up and pushes the blanket away. He grabs her hand. There is a rough loneliness and a deep question in his eyes. And her mind, her heart, one of them or maybe both of them, decide that the way he looks at her matters.

Her hand in his is warm when he wraps his fingers around it. Her skin is soft against his calloused fingers. Part of him wants to push her away so she will do the same. But she is so fucking close all of a sudden that it hurts.

She lets him pull her into his lap. They look at each other. She knows he can't talk. She knows he can be so much like Miles. He is so much like her. She knows some wounds are too deep and some nights are just too long.

He understands. She knows he does. His hand moves to her back. The palm of his hand connects with her tank. He makes a trail from her lower back to her shoulder blades. His fingers brush the bare skin of her neck when he moves them under her hair.

She straddles him. She moves her fingers over the line of his strong jaw line. The hairs of his beard brush the skin of her fingers. She moves her hand from his beard to his moustache. Her touch is slow and she almost drowns in the sadness in his eyes.

His hand is wrapped around her thigh. He claims her mouth. Her tongue explores his mouth. She move closer to him. His arm around her back is strong. Her fingers slowly on their way to his belt are sure of what they are going to do. He lifts her with an in control movement to make room for her warm thighs so close to his hard cock. Wetness meets hardness. Her curls touch his. His hand is on her ass.

When he enters her, her forehead is close to his. She moves over his cock, welcoming the deep hunger to feel all of him. He moves his hand over her hips. He lets out a deep grunt.

Bass' jaws are still filled with tension, his eyes are still on her. She is riding him slowly and all he knows is that he needs to feel more of her tight warmth around his damn cock. He thrusts even deeper inside of her. He can't stop looking at her. The blue in his eyes still burns, even in the darkness of the night.

He lets outs another low grunt that makes her let go completely. When she comes, it is with shallow waves that move through her body. She doesn't care. Not tonight. She just moves her hands to his neck and around his shoulders and lets Bass crush her with his demanding arms around her.

* * *

 **Author's Note** : I am really excited to return to this story I have made some changes in these first chapters, moving a part of chapter 2 to this third chapter, to add a bit more space for the story to breathe. Chapter four is almost ready. I have planned the whole story and I am really looking forward to explore the rest of the story! Love from Love


	4. Chapter 4

When Bass wakes up on his couch, his head hurts like hell. Between being asleep and waking up, her scent is close. It's adding some light to the weight of the past that is so alive in his present. There is a heavy silence that lingers through his living room. Her not being curled up next to him anymore, a sudden and sharp realization that fills his chest.

He opens his eyes. His small living room fills with grey morning light. His thoughts move to Connor and the fucking hell their life together has become. Old rage and bitter disappointment are encircling around his heart and he is slowly losing himself in the past. Emma's face is close. His mind is repeating the moment he saw her in Jasper, over and over again. The last time they had talked, _without him holding a gun to her fucking head,_ her standing right in front of him before Miles had found them and the air outside had filled with gunshots. There had been something hiding in her eyes, when it was him and her before everything had gone to hell. She could have told him. About their baby, their kid. Their son. _She should have told him._ He would have listened.

His mind circles back to that one question that wont leave him alone. _Why_. Why the fuck had she kept this from him? They were young, but he would not have walked away. He would not have walked away from his kid. He is staring in front of him but the doesn't see the fireplace in his living room. Hollow _what if's_ start to fill his mind. The past is too damn close before the sounds of her in his kitchen pull him back to the present. He moves his hand through his hair while he tells himself to wake the hell up.

Even through his whiskey haze, he remembers what happened last night. _Charlie. Him. His couch._ He remembers the comfort he had found within the warmth of her body close to his and her soft moans so close to his skin. Sleep had pulled him away from her, but he still remembers the reassuring weight of her body against his chest. He remembers last night's need to drink her like whiskey.

The warmth of her body, her touch... _her.._ it has all faded with the morning light that streams through his living room. Bass knows what has happened between them on his couch, he just doesn't understand _why_. He had assumed it had been Miles who had told her to be his babysitter, after he had found her on his couch last night. But it had become pretty obvious pretty damn fast she was here because she had decided she had wanted to be here. _With him_. He should have known Charlie fucking Matheson doesn't do anything if her stubborn heart doesn't decides he wants to.

She is here, but he can't figure out _why_ she is here. Not after everything that has happened. Not after what he had said about her, while he had been talking to Rachel when he had tried to find Connor. His blood had been boiling with raging hate and frustration.

He can still feel that moment inside his damn chest, knowing Charlie had heard what he said to Rachel, about her ending up just like Rachel, not because he believed it was the truth, but because he had wanted to hurt Rachel. He can still feel the dark curses and the new weight of more shame that had filled his mind when he had realized Charlie had heard him and he had barely been able to meet Charlie's eyes.

His mouth feels dry, his fingers crave for more whiskey. The answers his mind, and even more dangerous, his heart, are providing about the reason why she is here, make him feel fucking pathetic. Maybe she is right, and maybe _he is_ delusional. Bass closes his eyes with a soft groan before he opens them again.

Charlie walks into the living room. She puts a plate of toast and a glass of water in front of him. Her eyes find his briefly.

'Drink.' Her voice is filled with her Matheson strength. It is reminding him so much of Miles that it actually fucking hurts. The care, wrapped in strong Matheson words and a piercing look that won't leave him the hell alone.

When he doesn't move, her voice fills his living room again.

'You need to eat.'

He gives her a strong _no_ with a barely visible nod of his head.

Charlie looks at him. His eyes look dark and distant at the same time. He is miles away. She can see his thoughts filled with old demons in the blue of his eyes. He hasn't lost his strength but this life after their years on the road, the hurt and all the loss and frustration, are finding a way to his body. She has noticed it. He drinks too much. He looks like hell. The icy blue of his rage that is normally so sharp in his eyes is paler than normal.

She crosses her arms before her chest. 'I am not asking.'

He grunts something inaudible. But then he finally starts to eat. She sits down next to him, close enough so her leg connects with his. She knows that what has happened between them last night adds more to who and what they are. She doesn't regret it. She also knows it doesn't change anything about the intensity of who they are and what lays between them and in front of him.

But this is morning is not about that, this morning is about sitting next to him, with his scent still so close on her skin, with the memory of his arms around her, pressing her against his chest and the desperate need that had filled the room and space between them, hidden in his deep grunts and the depth of her kiss when his mouth had asked for hers.

This morning is about sitting next to him, knowing he will go back to the hospital to see Connor later this morning. Both of them not knowing what will be next. What she does know for sure is that her heart has decided with a stubborn will on its own that she will be here for him and that she needs both Monroe men to find their way back to who they should have been all along.

The sun slowly rises behind deep grey clouds outside. She looks out of the living room window and puts her hands around her mug of tea. The slow morning light brushes her hair before it finds the blue in her eyes. She takes a sip while she and Bass spend the first hour of another morning in silence.

* * *

 **Author's Note:** Bass is the heart of this story and I love exploring the past and present and to include other characters from the show, like Emma. I have always loved the scene between him and Emma in season one, right before Miles arrives. She must have thought about Connor, standing so close to Bass. Did she think about sharing they have a son? I loved exploring that, especially Bass' realization of her not telling him about Connor right there, when she had the chance, after it happened. It is one of those themes I would have loved to see in the show: the past, Emma's decision, his anger, his emotions, Emma's emotions and her reasons to do what she did. I wanted to include all of that in this chapter. I am working on chapter 5 right now! Love from Love


	5. Chapter 5

From very far away, Connor hears his own name. He's lost in heavy dreams filled with images from the past while sharp Spanish words are swirling through his dreams. His mother's face is close but no matter how hard Connor tries to reach her, he can't fight his way through the echo's that keep her captive.

When he finally wakes up and his dreams let him go, _for now_ , his head hurts. His _whole body_ hurts. He groans. His mouth is dry. He is thirsty. His name fills the space around him. _Again._ It's like a wave that keeps on finding a wide beach, getting louder and more clear with every new wave that finds the sand.

When he opens his eyes, the light that streams into his hospital room hurts his eyes. The first thing he sees, is his dad who is sitting next to him.

Bass looks at his kid, feeling the same relief he feels every single time Connor opens his eyes. Connor had been lost in his dreams, while he had been mumbling words and names in Spanish, words Bass doesn't understand. They are reminding him of all the years he has lost with his kid. It hurts, having to watch his kid go through nightmares he knows so well himself.

But what hurts the most, is sitting next to his kid and having to listen to Connor mumbling the word _mom_ through the wild waves of his dreams, a word that had hurt like hell when Bass had understood what Connor was saying and who he was mentioning. _Emma._ It's like her not being here is a constant presence in his life these days.

Bass waits. He gives Connor time to wake up before he grabs the glass of water on the nightstand next to his bed.

'Here..' his voice sounds deep, filled with exhaustion and worry he can't hide from Connor.

Connor looks at the glass of water. He is thirsty as hell.

'You need to drink Connor..' Bass tries again.

Connor curses at himself for wanting to drink the water his father is offering. He hates how weak it makes him feel. And suddenly, the face of Nunez is close and his mind takes him back to his years in Mexico. But then he remembers his thirst and he starts to drink, while the cool water starts to ease his thirst.

'Take it easy…' Bass says when Connor wants to drink too much too fast, realizing he has spoken those words before, to Charlie, on a rainy night after he had watched her for almost a full day. When Connor is too stubborn to listen, _just like her back then_ , he repeats those words again. 'Hey… take it easy.'

Connor drinks before exhaustion takes over. His head is hurting like a bitch. He closes his eyes. Bass sits next to him. The sound of the clock on the opposite walls is like a heavy drum in the small hospital room.

Bass still needs to know what happened between his kid and Miles, remembering the bruises on Miles' face from a couple of days before. He needs to know what Miles said to his kid. He needs to know what is happening with Connor. He wants to fucking break the walls Connor set up around him.

His kid is slipping away. He is losing him to whiskey and rage. It's reminding him so much of himself, that it fucking hurts. He needs answers. He needs to pull Connor back to a place where it is not too late for them.

'Connor.. what happened between you and Miles?' His low voice finally breaks the silence.

Connor closes his eyes again, unwilling to look at his dad. Flashes of his life move as movie scenes through his mind. It's a chaotic story. There are flashes of his mom on the day his life would change forever and he woke up in his own bed for the last time. She is smiling at him before her eyes cloud with something that still makes him feel sick.

There are flashes of Miles showing up in the living room of his old home in Jasper, so many years ago. There are old waves of disbelieve and raw hurt of the moment when his mother had let him leave with Miles. He can still hear himself beg to his mother, beg to make him understand what was happening. He remembers how powerless he had felt in that moment.

Time moves on and it makes him remember feeling the desperate darkness of the time after his aunt and uncle died died, of becoming a new man, of living his new life in a cartel in a small Mexican Town, of his dad showing up years later. With Miles. _Miles again_. Walking to Texas. Meeting Charlie. A cage in New Vegas where he had to sit and wait with his dad in grey morning light, knowing he had to kill him if he wanted to live. Knowing he was going to lose his family all over again.

Long nights. Even longer days. Neville. The war. Choosing his father. Coming back with his father. A broken promise of a Republic they had never built as a constant shadow in his life.

And finally, his mind takes him back to the day he had walked to Rachel's and Miles' house. He remembers the cool loathing and distance in Rachel's eyes after he had walked inside and into the kitchen of their house and she had looked at him.

He had been looking for Miles. He had been looking for answers. He had been drunk. He can still taste the whiskey. _Miles looks at him. The house around them is silent. The kitchen feels too small for all of their history. And he already hates what is happening in the small space. Rachel's cool eyes. Miles inability to look at what happened, to look at his decision to walk him away from his old life in Jasper, so many years ago._

 _Connor wants to walk away, but he can't. He can't stop what is happening inside of him. He tries to walk away, but the rage wins. Old rage from the teenage boy he used to be mixes with adult rage belonging to the man he is now. Miles tells him it is better to leave, while he looks from him to Rachel and back to him again. Connor knows, he knows how much Miles hates confrontations with his decisions and the demons he created for himself. Connor has seen it with him and Charlie, when she needs her answers._

 _But he is done. He is done with Miles being Miles. They will talk. Now. Here. Today. His deep eyes meet Miles' dark is about to say something, something about him needing to walk away, he can see it in his eyes. But Connor is done with waiting. He is done with Miles. His rage wins. He punches Miles in his face while he lets his rage flow through his veins. Connor tells him with a deep hoarse voice that reminds himself so much of his father, to fight the hell back. Miles refuses, his hand going to the fresh bruises on his face._ Both men had looked at each other. Rachel had walked to Miles, but he had ignored her. After that, Connor had walked away, his boots hitting the wood of the porch of the Porter home heavily, trying to find more booze and more fights to cool his anger.

Bass watches how Connor disappears behind his wall of hurt and rage again. He moves his hand over his face. He needs answers. But he doesn't know what the hell to do right now.

'I will come back tomorrow Connor, all right?'

Connor doesn't respond. He doesn't protest either. Bass swallows his inability to do or say something more than that, away. He looks at Connor one more time before he gets up from the chair next to Connor's bed. The heavy sound of his boots on the floor fill the empty space between his and his kid.

When Bass walks out of Connor's room, rage fills his chest. It crushes and overpowers the pain and frustration he's feeling. It's cold, hard rage. Rage because his brother took away his right to protect what is his. _His family._

He locks his jaws and ignores everybody that's in his way when he walks outside. He lets his steel rage flow through his body. He locks his jaws. And there is only one man one his mind. There is only one man his anger drives him to. _Miles._


	6. Chapter 6

Bass' steps are filled with dark rage that moves from his shoulders to his fists. That familiar rage keeps him company, with every step he takes.

He thinks about Emma. He thinks about Connor. He thinks about all the time that was stolen from him, time he will _never ever_ get the hell back. It's a maddening realization that seeps through his thoughts.

He thinks about the day Miles had left Philly, to hide his fucking kid. After everything he did for his brother, his brother had hid his fucking kid. _From him_. The poison of that betrayal adds more rage to the cold fire that is building inside of him.

Rachel is standing near the front door of the home she is sharing with Miles. She is about to head into town. She is closing the door behind her but her hands forget what they are doing when she looks at Bass and the hard, calculated look in his eyes.

'Bass.. what are you…' she starts, while something shifts in her eyes.

He doesn't let her finish, his eyes filled with bitter cold steel. 'Not here to talk to you, Rachel.'

When he finally finds Miles, he is sitting on the porch of the old Porter home. There is a bottle of whiskey standing next to him and a glass of whiskey in his hand, while he is staring into the small back garden. Miles looks up when Bass walks over to him.

'Enjoying playing house with your girls?' Bass' voice is a like knife that cuts through the afternoon silence. His words are laced with bitter menace.

The threat of violence hangs thickly in the air. It lingers in the space between him and Miles. Miles puts his glass on the wooden porch step, next to his bottle. He slowly gets up. He looks away before he looks straight at Bass. 'You should go Bass.' There is a warning in his voice. Both men are facing each other.

'No,' Bass' voice sounds raw and deep. 'I am not going anywhere Miles.' There is a burning threat in his voice. 'I am not going anywhere, because _you_ took that chance away from me.'

Both men know what he is talking about, he is talking about a chance to have his own family, a home, about finding something that is close to everything he has lost too many times now. Watching Miles getting closer to Rachel and spending so much time with Charlie while his brother gets to rebuild his life, _filled with second chances,_ with the both of them, has been hell for his heart for so long.

Bass doesn't look away. 'Knowing I lost another child. Knowing how much I….' his voice almost breaks. _He_ almost breaks but his rage puts him back together. 'You took Connor away from he.' His voice changes and his rage breaks through.

'I am not doing this, Bass.' Miles voice sounds heavy and flat at the same time.

Bass' eyes fill with explosive rage. And just like that, his brother makes a decision for him. _Again._ He's done with Miles being Miles. He is done with him making all his god damn decision without looking at them.

'You took that away from _me, you son of a bitch'_ he spits those words towards Miles while he closes the remaining distance between them with one last step. His fist moves to his face.

Miles breathes harshly. He waits. His deep dark eyes, filled with violence and the promise of what will happen next, on Bass. He can taste his own blood before his anger fills his chest, fuelling his own rage. Miles fights back, with steel punches that Bass answers with a violent comeback of his own.

There are no guns. There are no knives, no swords. Not this time. This is about Miles and him, about who they were, about who they are, about rage and fists, bruises and blood.

'Stop…' a familiar voice reaches both men through the haze of their rage and fight '….you need to stop, right now.' When they look up they see strong but shocked blue eyes.

Charlie's strong voice pulls both men back to the present. She doesn't know where the strong force of stopping whatever is happening right in front her comes from, but she does know they need to stop. A part of her heart whispers about how she feels when they both listen. _To her_. And just for one second, that one overwhelming sense of being seen and to matter, _to them_ , lets everything else fade.

Her eyes fill with concern she pushes away because she is standing close to overwhelming rage radiating of the two most notorious men of the continent.

She looks at Bass. She looks at Miles before something pulls her back to Bass again. Their shoulders are filled with adrenaline that follows the lines of their bodies. They look taller. They look deadly. There is a storm of violence living in their eyes. Both men are breathing harshly.

Miles looks from Bass to Charlie. Charlie's meets his eyes before she can feel Bass' intense stare like a heated wave on her. Her eyes finally meet his. She has to tell herself to stand her ground because of the intensity she finds in there, because when he looks at her the venom of all his anger and past with Miles fades, just for one second, and behind that she finds something else.

The silence of the afternoon presses heavily on the shoulders of the men standing in front of her.

Miles tongue darts over his lips. He tastes his own blood on his lips. He moves it away with the back of his hand before he looks at Bass again. He knows what Bass craves for. 'Being this kind of father was never in the cards for you bass'

'And who's fault is that, Miles?' There is bitter hurt and venom in the depth of Bass' raw voice.

Charlie looks at Bass. All the hurt he pours into Miles' name, moves straight through the defenses she has learned to put around her heart when it comes to him. He looks defeated. She can see all the fight flow out his shoulders.

And without looking at her, or Miles, Bass turns around, swallowing thickly, ignoring them before he walks away. Right before he turns around she is able to see the darkness in his eyes. Charlie is drawn to his wide shoulders in his black leather jacket walking away from her.

Rachel walks over to Miles. She has kept her distance, while she has watched them from her place at the porch, watching her daughter stopping both men with a chaos of emotions in her own heart. Knowing this is about a son, about Emma, about a part of Miles' past, a part of Bass' past, about a past she wasn't part of. It stings, more than Rachel wants to admit, now this part of their shared past reaches the surface.

There is a hollow distance in her uncle's eyes, a new distance Charlie hasn't seen in there before.

She knows her mother is about to say something, and Charlie knows she has heard it all before. A heaviness presses on her shoulders. Her mind, or maybe it is her heart, makes a decision. When she starts walking into the same direction as Bass just did, she can feel her mother and Miles react without even looking at them.

Shocked surprise fills her mothers and Miles' eyes, both of them expecting her to stay. Maybe she expected that _herself._ But her heart pulls her to Bass. She senses Miles' eyes on her, but it is her mother who speaks first.

'Charlie…where do you think you are going?' There is a slight tremble in her words, it masks her hurt and accentuates the obvious outrage that is reflected in her eyes.

Charlie freezes for one second. Time pulls her to all those moments where their past, Charlie's loyalty towards her mother, _even though she has reached a point in her life where she understands they will never be who they should have been_ , the loyalty to what she stands for herself and what she finds in her mother's eyes, causes a storm between the both of them.

 _The first time she saw her again in Philly_ , her mind racing and telling her that somehow her mother lived years of her life without her. _The Tower_. Nora. Facing her mother after she brought Monroe back _with her_ to Willoughby. Her mother's face when she _asked_ her to save Monroe's life. Her mother's face when she had realized she had stayed and fought _for Monroe's_ life in New Vegas, putting her own life on the line. And with all those memories, her heart fills with a strange sense of guilt that always seems to keep her company and frustration of all the times she felt she could not make her mother understand what it's like for her, realizing they will never be who they should have been.

She feels trapped. _Again._ But then time lets her go. She breathes out slowly and when she breathes in, she feels her strength and truth that belongs to her and only her, rushing back to her.

'Don't you dare mom…' there is an intense warning in her words, when her voice finally breaks free.

Miles looks at her mother before he looks at her. He stays around but he doesn't talk although she can see a world of words reflected in his eyes.

'Charlie.. why?' The anger radiates through her words, while she is trying to understand why her daughter is about to follow the man she wishes stayed the hell away from all them. ' Why… he is a…'

'…he is a what, mom? A monster?' Charlie's words fill with exhausting while anger fills her heart. Her mother always makes this about Bass. About her hate for him. Without looking at the rest.

Charlie knows about those dark years in Philly, about the years both Bass and the man who is still standing next to her mother right now were right there with her. They barely talk about it but Charlie knows about the hate filled power games they have all played in the past.

But this is not about that past, this is not about that city, or Bass or Miles. This is about her, about her mother and the fact her mother still doesn't acknowledge her decisions, she still doesn't acknowledge her for the woman she became, with her own values and truths.

Rachel stares at Charlie, a small twitch appears around her lips. Charlie refuses to look away but it is what happens inside her own heart that she sees most of all. And they are right with her somehow, Connor, _Bass_ , close to the part of her own heart that carries so much hurt with her as well. Words start to form inside her mind, words that come from her ability to really truly look at the people who she shares her life with.

'Your pain isn't the only one that matters mom.'

And there it is, the truth. _Her truth_. It's finally here, it's finally out in the open. She doesn't want to hurt her mother, but when her words are spoken, she finally realizes how much they needed to be said by her and heard by her mother.

Charlie looks at her mother. She tells herself to take a deep breath. She breathes in. She breathes out. And then she turns around before she walks into the fading afternoon light, on her way to find Bass.

* * *

Author's Note: Thank you so much for your reviews and support. I love writing, and knowing you are out there, is amazing and fuels my writing inspiration. With gratitude, Love from Love


	7. Chapter 7

Sunset fills the horizon. It's getting dark while the last daylight slowly fades. Charlie welcomes the cool evening air to soothe everything that is happening inside of her. Her steps are taking her to his house.

The violent storm of seeing the two most powerful men she knows, fighting each other, is still close. She had been on her way to ask Miles if he'd wanted to get a couple of drinks in town, when she had seen her mother, standing on her porch, with an intensity in her eyes that told her something was wrong.

And then, she had seen them. Miles' fists, Bass' rage. The both of them fighting with a violent force that only belongs to them. They had looked unstoppable. But the one thing that her stubborn mind had told her was that they had to stop.

The intensity in Miles' eyes when he had realized she was going to follow Bass, is still close. But it's the intensity of Bass' eyes, _the crushed hurt and last waves of his heartbreaking rage_ , that keeps her company, every step of the way.

The conversation between her and her mother is repeating itself in her mind with every step she takes. The overwhelming sense of saying what needed to be said in order to move forward a certainty that adds more strength to her steps.

And by saying what she had to say, old guilt had finally started to resolve. She is able to breathe like she hasn't been able to do in a very long time. But it also means her heart and emotions are close to surface, making her feel raw and exposed. And she is a Matheson, so she hates how she feels.

She stubbornly tells herself to keep on going, to keep on walking until she reaches his house. Her soft knock on his front door sounds loud in the nightly air. Nothing happens. The house in front of her is silent. Just when she is about to knock again, because she is not leaving, _not tonight_ , he opens his door. His eyes look empty, although there is some Monroe thunder left in the blue of his eyes.

When he turns around and walks back inside, he doesn't look at her. He doesn't say a word when she follows him inside.

His living room is filled with darkness from a new night on its way. It feels desolated and cold. She gets out of her leather jacket and places it on the kitchen table on her left. She starts by making some light. It adds a soft glow and long shadows to the room.

When he looks at her, she nods to his bathroom. 'Come on.' Her voice is soft but still reaches him.

He follows her without saying a word or a biting insult, although she really needs him to say something, _anything,_ because his crudeness and insults are better than this hollow version of a Bass.

Bass sits down on the ridge of a large bath tub. He feels like hell. A throbbing wave of pain moves from his face to his shoulders and all the way to his back, now the adrenaline of his rage is fading. He keeps on seeing Miles' face. His body feels exhausted after their fight while old hurt is way too fucking close, hurt he can barely outrun now dark thoughts are closing in on him.

She is close but he is barely registering she is close. The meaning of her being here, _with him_ , doesn't reach him. _Yet_. He feels numb while too many faces form the past are haunting him. But her being here, her showing up at his fucking front door and her walking to his house to be here with him, slowly starts to break down that lonely wall around him.

Charlie goes through a small cabinet on the opposite side of the bath Bass is sitting on. When she has found the supplies she needs, she walks back to him.

He looks defeated. His eyes are too empty and his shoulders are lacking their usual strength. She has seen him like this before. She can still smell the scent of smoke of fires spread through their camp under a night sky. She had looked at him from her place near a fire in the dark, after he had heard the news about Duncan. He had been sitting across camp, alone, staring in the dark after Scanlon had told him Duncan was gone. She had stood right next to him when she had heard his voice break, desperately fighting to stay in control, when he had asked Scanlon how it had happened. He had turned that loss into rage and blood later that night. And she had followed him.

But tonight, there is no more fight left. Bruises are forming on his face. A sheen of sweat covers the skin of his neck. Her eyes follow the strong lines of his neck before they flow to his shoulders. But then his eyes, _his eyes,_ pull her back to the reason why she is here. He still isn't looking at her. But he doesn't push her away with crude words or biting blue in his eyes either.

Her hands start their work, while Maggie's reassuring voice is close. She knows what to do. She looks at the cuts and bruises on his face, bruises that are there because of a broken past and Miles' fists.

And there, in his bathroom with him sitting on the ridge of his tub, she takes care of him. And what almost breaks her heart is that he lets her. She cleans his wounds and slowly moves a wet cloth over his face. She is standing between his tall, muscled legs. His thighs are encircling her. Her hand brushes the line of his jaw. Her chest is almost close enough to touch his.

 _Something is happening_ , whispers her heart in the dark. It feel strange. And overwhelming. And new. But then again, being here in the dark with him, feels normal. Maybe this, she thinks, maybe this is their new normal.

Bass can't look at her. Her touch feels strong and gentle at the same time. When she is ready, he gets up and walks to his living room. He needs some fucking space because a part of him wants to reach out. He shouldn't feel what he is feeling while she is here, doing what she does. It is fucking pathetic but he can barely fight that overwhelming need. He can't handle to finally feel and remember what's it like to feel somebody close who is taking care of him.

Even with an adrenaline filled haze that is still clouding his thoughts, she is too fucking close. The only sound that fills his hallway and living room is the sound of his boots on the wooden floor. He sits down on his couch. He moves his hand through sweaty curls.

Charlie walks into his living room. She grabs some logs and starts a fire in the small fireplace on the other side of the couch before she sits down next to him. The crackling sounds of the fire in front of them is their only companion.

And maybe it's because this, _him, her, alone, a fire and a long night stretched out in front of them,_ feels so familiar that she lets her heart speak.

'He has to push you away..'

'What?' Bass' voice sounds low and hoarse. He slowly lifts his head. His eyes are meeting hers. The light of the flames in the fireplaces brushes his skin. And when his eyes meet hers, she knows he is finally, _slowly,_ returning to her.

'Connor…' she starts, 'he has to push you away.'

The vulnerable intensity of him soaking up and holding onto every word she says, almost crushes her.

'When I heard I could find you in New Vegas…' he still looks at her when she tells him what she has never told him before, 'all my hate and anger focused on you. I was so angry at my mom, at Miles…' she remembers the months she has spent with Miles, his inability to answer to questions that mattered. She remembers her mother's decisions, the months after the Tower. 'I wasn't ready to feel the anger I had to feel.'

'He's not ready Bass.' She pauses, she looks at him. 'He's not ready to be angry at Emma.'

The blue in his eyes lights up when she isn't afraid to mention her. He is staring again, but she can feel the intensity of his dark eyes close to her. She can sense his doubt and before he speaks, she speaks. 'Connor wouldn't be here if he did not wanted you in his life.'

Something changes in his eyes, something that makes her heart beat a bit faster. She sees vulnerable hope in his eyes before something heavy clouds it again. He looks away from her.

Bass stares into the fire in front of them while he processes everything she has just told him. She has never been this open. She has never talked about the reason that drove her away from Miles and Rachel after the Tower. They have never discussed it, although he had needed to know why she had ended up tied up in a fucking empty pool, with him.

She has stopped talking. She just sits next to him. It is one of the things that makes him feel the way he does about her, because she always seems to understand when he needs his space without making him feel fucking pathetic about it.

The night slowly crawls towards a new morning. Charlie knows it is time to go. She can't stay. It doesn't mean she doesn't _want_ to stay. She is afraid of what will happen between them when she does.

It has happened before, more than once. But this time, when something will happen, it will mean something more. And she is not sure she is ready. She is not sure he can take any more.

She gets up. She senses him following her with his eyes, while she walks through his living room. She grabs her leather jacket from his kitchen table. When she has reached his front door, his words are suddenly close again. _Well, by that logic, Charlie is going to end the world someday._ She had walked straight into another hate filled conversation between her mother, Miles and Monroe. They hadn't realized she had been there, but she had heard his words. She hates how his words made her feel, she hates how they still won't leave her alone.

She thinks about those surreal hours she had spent in an empty pool, close to Monroe. Close enough to feel the heated blaze of his eyes, but not close enough to kill him. The echo of his voice finds her again. _Kid, you might be trying to run away from your mom, but you are a hell of a lot like her._ It was like he suddenly knocked all the air out of her. She hadn't been able to look away from him while the steel blue had been burning inside his eyes. She hadn't been able to stop the reaction building up deep inside of her.

She remembers his eyes. She remembers how unexpectedly raw she had felt. Because he had been right. All that cold hate that had been burning inside of her, needing him dead without looking at anything else and letting anything else matter, it was exactly what she hated about her mother's hate. A cold, tingling sensation moves through her chest, while her heart beats a bit faster. It would be easier to walk away. But she has to know. She looks straight at him.

'Did you mean it?'

The way her voice sounds, makes him look up. She surprises him with her question in the dark. There is a shift in his eyes to something more intense. 'Mean what?'

'What you said to my mom about me becoming just like her?'

He knows, just by looking at her and after everything she has been through, how fucking important this question is to her. It shows how fucking brave she is, to ask him what she is asking right now.

'No…' His voice is deep and strong, reminding her of the General inside of him, but this is him…Bass…all of him with his honest no bullshit answer. It's the way he looks at her that tells her the rest of the story.

She hates how his answer matters. But it's all she needs, now the question that has been burning inside of her has finally been asked and answered by him. She silently begs him to not ask questions or to not be his stupid arrogant smug self. But she doesn't have to. He just gives her space, while his eyes won't let go of her.

She nods. And then her hand reaches for the door. The night is waiting for her. When she steps outside, cool evening air brushes against her skin. She breathes in and soaks up the crisp air around her. But then the sound of his front door opening and his booths behind her fill the air. His tall body is suddenly close. Bass pushes her against the wall of the house. His wide shoulders and chest shield her from the long night and everything else that is waiting for them out there. His breath is warmth on her skin.

Bass knows this is stupid as hell. But he can't not do this. He can't let her walk away. Not after what she did for him, not after she followed him to house. Not after she made a choice to be here, with him. Not after what she shared with him. Not after what he just saw in her eyes. He had to follow her.

Her scent is close. Her breath is warmth against his neck. He soaks up the way she feels and smells. And then, he lowers his mouth to kiss her. It's slow and strong and wet and warmth. She lets him kiss her in the shadow of his tall body. Her hand slowly moves to his chest while she soaks up the way he feels, so close to her now they are trying whatever this is, this new normal.

His mouth slowly lets go of her lips, but he doesn't step away. Her hand is still on his chest. His thumb brushes against her cheek with a feather light touch. And then, Sebastian Monroe, the man of so much steel and ego, shocks her when his low voice vibrates through the night.

'Are you okay?' There is an genuine deep honesty in his voice that makes her stare at him. There is something so intimate in deep voice, that it's almost even more intimate than his touch. She nods her _yes_. It's barely visible but she knows he has heard her.

The fact that he cares enough to ask that question makes something inside of her wake up. She tells herself she should not feel this amount of comfort and safety, so close to his wide chest and shoulders. She doesn't need anyone. _It's easier to be alone_. It's what has kept her on her feet for so long. But him, here… _Bass_.. is showing her that there might be another truth.

Bass is fighting his familiar battle when it comes to her. _Fuck_. Possessive heat fights for dominance. Another part inside of him tells her to step away from her. But dammit. He wants her here. Close. Wrap his arms around her, press her body against his. But so much is happening, he can feel it in the slight tremble of her shoulders. He has seen it in the vulnerable blue of her eyes. She has finally lowered her defenses.

And he doesn't want to do anything to fuck that up. He doesn't want to take one more step towards something they might not be ready for. Something he is not sure he even deserves. She has been through enough.

'Try to get some sleep.' There is hoarse warmth inside his voice. He curses inside his head for the way he is talking to her. But then she looks at him the way she does, and he swallows that curse away.

And with those five words, they become something new. She tells him goodnight with her eyes before he takes a step back. She doesn't have to look back, because she knows he will follow her with eyes while she walks into the cool night air.


	8. Chapter 8

_It's dark. The buzz of another night that is slowly beginning, fills the air. Drunken voices are close, giggles of nameless girls are joining them. Prostitutes are walking down the street. He finds shelter in a narrow alley. He's cold, no matter how much warm evening air is surrounding him. He thinks about his mom although there is a dark wall appearing around his thoughts, every time he does. He makes himself as small as he can, sitting with his back against the cold brick wall of the building behind him. His eyes are heavy, but Connor knows he won't get any sleep. Not tonight._

Mexico feels far away, but on days like today it's like he is right there. Memories rush back to him. He remembers the first days he spent in a new country. He remembers those first months with his aunt and uncle before they had died. He remembers the desolation of that first night he had spent on the streets, homeless, aimlessly and alone.

Nobody cared. Nobody saw him. Until the man that treated him like a son did. It had felt like a home, but it had been a new hollow home, based on empty trust and broken promises.

Charlie smiles. Connor doesn't know it himself, but he is sitting close to the same spot where she had stood with Monroe, after she had brought him back with her to Willoughby. The shadows of the tall bridge tower in the distance and bring back memories of the place where Miles and Bass had met again. The image of standing close to the two most powerful men she knows is close. She remembers Bass' eyes, she remembers Miles' harsh breathing. Somehow, it feels like a lifetime ago today.

Her thoughts flow from that day now many days ago to last night, when Monroe had kissed her deeply standing so close to his wide chest, shielding her from the rest of the world. The memory of his eyes and how she had felt, standing so close to her, _his scent, his breath against her skin_ , has been keeping her company all day.

A soft breeze fills the air, pulling her back to the Texas afternoon. When Connor finally looks at her, there is loneliness that immediately reaches the place in her heart where she locks away her own loneliness.

She nods to the bottle standing next to Connor. 'You want to share?'

A small grin appears around his mouth. It adds a friendly depth to his eyes that she knows so well by now. 'Would it make a difference if I say no?'

She sits down next to him with a grin on her face. Connor looks at her while the afternoon sunshine brushes her face. She's strong. She's smart. _Definitely a Mini Miles._ He knows she is not his, she will never be. He knows her heart, _even though she is fighting it herself_ , belongs to another Monroe. But he cares deeply about her.

The Texan landscape in front of them fills with golden afternoon colors now the sun is slowly setting. Charlie knows how hard Connor is struggling. She knows how much he is hurting. She knows about the struggle of decisions made by parents, loneliness and forgiveness.

'It's okay…' she finally breaks the silence.

Connor frowns at her. There is a question in his eyes. She keeps looking at him.

'It's okay to be mad at your mom.'

The start of anger appears in his eyes before it fades away and the meaning of her words truly reach him. She can see it happening in the depth of his eyes. Hesitation fills her next breath.

'I know a little about this…' she can't keep the tremble out of her voice.

When her voice starts to break, Connor's heart feels more heavy. She rarely shows anyone this part of her and when she does, it always hurts like hell having to listen to her, because of all the hurt that is hiding in her past.

He doesn't talk. He lets her talk. But his shoulders turn a bit more towards her, just enough to make her understand he is there, that he is listening.

'My mom and I? We are not what we should have been. And no matter how hard she tries, I know we will never heal completely Connor.'

Connor looks at her, while tears cloud her eyes. Sitting next to him she tells him something she has never shared with anyone before. Not like this. The trust in his eyes gives her the last reassurance she needs.

'She left Connor…she left me with my dad, she told me to take care of my baby brother…she walked away without ever looking back. I did not know it then, but she walked all the way to Philly. To Miles. To your dad.'

She breathes out while she hears the echo of her own voice, begging her mother to turn around and make her understand. 'And I never understood it. I still don't understand it. My dad never talked about it. My mom still won't talk about it. And I am still so pissed at her…' her voice fades.

Something shifts inside of Connor. He finally understands more of the difficult relationship between Charlie and Rachel. He understands more of the strong girl sitting next to him. But more than that, he finally realizes he is _not_ alone. He is not alone, with his hurt and loneliness. She hides it well, all her hurt, all her pain, while she keeps on going. But that doesn't mean it is not there.

'I am so sorry, Charlie..' his voice is filled with compassion and warmth.

He doesn't try to hug her or say something more. She is thankful he doesn't. She is grateful Connor understands why these things are so hard for her and what she needs right now. He offers her the bottle and she lets the whiskey burn in the back of her throat.

The sound of birds flying high in the sky and the sounds of the afternoon forest behind them fill the air.

'It's hard to remember her…' Connor says with a raw sadness in his voice.

It makes her have to swallow her own hurt away, hurt for the people she misses. _Nora, Maggie, Danny…Jason.._ Somehow, her dad's face is close.

'I had this picture of her…but I lost it.' Connor is unable to look at her when he shares with her what he hasn't shared with anyone else. 'She gave it to me when Miles came to take me away.' He can't keep the anger from the past out of his words when he mentions Miles and the day that changed everything.

It's like someone punches her in her stomach. Because it's first time Connor mentions Miles, it is the first time Charlie truly and fully realizes Miles played his part on the day things between Connor and Emma had changed beyond repair. Questions fill her head, questions that need answers, questions _Miles_ can only answer.

But they will have to wait, because this, _today_ , is about something else, about mother's and broken pieces on the ground and hurt that has been barely shared with anyone.

When he finally looks at her, Charlie's eyes are there waiting for her. 'You haven't lost that picture Connor…' Charlie slowly pulls something out of the pocket of her jeans. And there, in her slender hand is the picture that has been haunting him since the day he had realized he had lost it, sitting close to the fire with Tom Neville asleep on the other side of it. It had hurt like hell.

'Where did you find it?'

'I found it close to the train tracks, after you left with Neville.'

They are both back at the night where they had met again, standing on opposite sides of the same fight. On the day after Connor had left with Neville, Bass had grabbed his gun and bagpack to look for him. She had done the same. She had ignored her mother, she had ignored Miles and grabbed her crossbow although Bass had refused to take him with her when he had been ready to leave.

Outside their safe house, Monroe and his eyes filled with icy thunder had been waiting for her.

' _Where the hell do you think you're going?' he barks at her while his eyes are almost piercing through her._

' _What does it look like, Monroe.' Her reply is filled with Matheson sarcasm and strength while she refuses to look away from the steel in his eyes and shoulders. She never has. She is not going to start now._

 _The door of the safe house behind her opens, and she knows Miles is standing behind her. Before he opens his mouth, she talks. 'Not your decision Miles. Stay out of this.'_

 _The flash in Monroe's eyes when she basically tells Miles to shut up, swirls inside of her in a dangerous way._

' _Charlie...' she ignores how Bass says her name with his raspy voice. There is a plea in his words that is impossible to ignore. She knows he doesn't want her there because she knows he is hurting, hurting because of Connor's betrayal, hurting with shame he doesn't want her to see._

They had stood there, eyes locked and a whole battle and conversation happening without words. He had told her _no_ with his eyes, Charlie had given him no choice. Bass had grumbled something. She had ignored him. They hadn't found Connor, but she had found the picture that had been hiding between fading autumn leaves. She had recognized Emma, holding a small baby in her arms and she had known the picture belonged to Connor. She had never told Bass. She did not wanted to hurt him more, but she could not leave the picture behind in a grey, deep forest.

With the picture he thought he had lost that has found a way back to him, _because of her_ , in his left hand, Connor slowly moves his free hand towards her face, before he moves a lock of her out of her face. The thank you that is hard to put into words, softly rolls of his lips. And finally, he feels like he could belong here, with the people he shares his life with. He has been fighting it, he has been fighting Miles, he has been struggling with how hard his dad is fighting for him. He has been fighting himself. Something is different, although he cannot put it into words yet. The loneliness feels a bit less heavy.

They stare in front of them, they listen to the sound of the forest behind them and drink the whiskey in the bottle standing between them.

The sun sets slowly, adding a soft pastel glow to the world around them. Charlie thinks about her past while she is sitting in her present. Memories from the Chicago house she grew up in flow to the years she spent after her mom left until they lead her through the war to where she is now. Charlie knows they will never be who they should have been, they will never heal. But something about this afternoon, and something in his eyes tells her that not everything might be broken. And then her thoughts flow to another man, to another Monroe, while her heart whispers that there might be more than war, battles, heartbreak and loss in their world.

* * *

 **Author's Note:** Connor's picture (from season 2) always inspired me. I was working on this chapter when I decided to write 'Hidden', and write about that picture, but then in a scene with Bass and Charlie. I always wanted to write a conversation between Connor and Charlie, a conversation about their parents and past, because they have a lot of common there. Thank you for your feedback and support, it means a lot to me! Love from Love


	9. Chapter 9

Stars appear high in the sky when Charlie breathes in the early night air. Rain is on its way, she can sense it in the air. She had a long day. She needs a drink. And because she can take care of herself, she is going to buy that drink _herself_. Her Matheson DNA is taking her to the closest bar in town.

She had dinner with Miles and her mom. Miles had invited her. She knows it's his way to not let everything that is left, go to hell. So she said yes. _She should have said no_. But even when things are tough, she keeps on trying to find a way forward. Her stubborn heart refuses to do anything else.

Her mother's eyes had been cold. Time had moved too slowly. They had barely spoken to each other. Since the afternoon Charlie had finally told her mother the things she needed to tell her, things have been even more difficult between them, especially because she had followed Bass after his fight with Miles. She knows how much her mother disapproves the fact that she is giving Bass the same change she gave Miles. It has been written in her mother's eyes since the day she had met her mother again, standing across from her and in front of Monroe, after spending months away from her after the Tower. It's not hard to find the cold hate that still lingers in her mother's heart for everything that has happened in Philly.

Charlie knows Miles and Bass haven't talked since their fight. Charlie understands where Bass' anger and Miles' inability to deal with everything that is happening comes from, even when he still sees and loves Bass as his brother.

It's hard, not spending time with both of them afters spending so many months by their side, fighting their fight, together. It makes her realize how much she had gotten used to falling asleep with both men sitting close to her and the fire that kept them warm.

Miles had tried to mediate between her and mom during dinner, but it hadn't worked. When she finally had been able to walk out of their house and into the evening air, relief had washed over her.

Her need for a drink takes her to the bar in the heart of Willoughby. When she walks into the bar, familiar shoulders clad in black leather are waiting for her. He is sitting at the bar, holding a glass of whiskey in his hand. She knows it is not his first. When she sits down next to him, the blue of his eyes lights up. It makes something swirl deep inside of her.

Before she can order her drink, Bass nods to the guy behind the bar to get her a drink. She should be pissed, but there is something about Bass buying her a drink that feels so normal and yet so stupidly surreal, that she forgets to protest.

She empties her glass with Matheson efficiency. Bass grins.

'Rough night?' His voice is deep while he puts his glass to his lips.

'Dinner with Miles and my mom.' Her voice sounds flat.

He is about to open his stupid mouth, but her eyes tell him to stop asking questions. And for once, the asshole listens. He orders her another drink without being his smug stupid self. When his shoulder brushes hers while they drink in silence, the rest of the bar fades.

A couple of Blanchard's men Bass knows from the war join them. And maybe this time she is the one that is delusional, but when Bass introduces her to all of them, there is respect and pride in his voice. The men order more whiskey. They talk, they make jokes. The smug fire in his eyes is back when he is surrounded by men that obviously admire him. Charlie rolls her eyes at him before she orders herself another drink.

Bass bites back a grin when Charlie obviously rolls her eyes at him. Fuck, she has no fucking idea how fucking good she looks, sitting at the bar with a glass of whiskey in her hand, not giving a shit about how many high ranking officers are surrounding her.

Charlie enjoys her whiskey while she tries to ignore how he looks. Because right there in front of her is General Monroe, his glass filled with whiskey, his eyes filled with his familiar cool control. He looks taller, his shoulders look wider. She also tries to ignore his eyes but even when he is talking to the men around him, she can still feel his eyes on her when she puts her glass to her lips.

When Connor walks into the bar with a hesitation in his step, Charlie immediately senses the subtle change in Bass. He locks his jaws. The lines of his face and shoulders become more tensed. He hides his tension behind his mask of more smug conversation and steel ego while he continues his conversation with the men around him.

She is not sure what Connor is going to do, but when he walks towards them, she can see the reaction hidden in Bass' eyes that he is trying to hide from anyone else standing around him.

'You want to share?' Connor nods to the bottle on the bar while he looks from his dad to her.

'Do we have a choice?' Charlie grins back, remembering their conversation from a couple of days ago. It had felt good to talk about the past and their parent's decisions that had shaped their lives.

From the moment Connor steps into the bar, _sober and without the cold, dark rage in his eyes he has gotten so used to_ , Bass feels a stupid amount of hope he curses away. He excuses himself before he walks away from the stories and the men around him.

Something has changed inside of Connor, Charlie doesn't know exactly what or why, but she is happy he's here. It's the first time in months he is joining them. Bass joins them, and the hesitation that's reflected in Connor eyes, is now flowing through his shoulders. Connor nods to him while Bass takes a seat at the bar. Both men drink in silence.

The three of them sitting at the bar brings back a memory of another bar in New Vegas, where she had been sitting next to Connor and across from Bass. They had been making plans to get the diamonds to pay for Duncan's men. It's a memory that reminds her how far they all have come. They share a bottle of whiskey.

A lot has changed. But the deep look Bass is giving her tonight, is the same. He might be drinking his whiskey. He might be talking to Connor, finally breaking the silence between them when he asks him how he is doing. But his eyes, _his eyes_ never leave her alone. They feel darker and even more intense than she's used to. She drinks her whiskey, but all she can taste is him.

* * *

Bass knows he should have gone home after his last drink with Connor. But when it comes to whiskey and women, the stupid is never far away.

The sound of thunder in the distance fills the air. Clouds fill the night sky and hide the moon. He walks up the steps of her porch when the rain starts to fall. He knows how fucking stupid this is. He knows he doesn't deserve her. It doesn't mean he doesn't want her.

Charlie is almost asleep when a knock on her front door wakes her. When she opens her door, the scent of rain fills the air. And there he is, _all of him_. Tall, proud and smug, black leather jacket and blue burning eyes. He is leaning into the doorframe. He slowly lifts his head and when her eyes meet his, she knows exactly why he is here. It's the same hungry look she saw so many times before.

Even before he touches her, Charlie knows this is not going to be slow or desperate. It's not going to be some quick adrenaline filled frustration fuck. He is going to claim her. All of her.

And there is no turning back.

His curls stick to his neck and forehead, the rain makes his shirt cling to his chest. Drops of rain move from his jaw to the strong lines of his neck. He doesn't ask her if he can come in. He just walks inside while the heavy sound of his boots on her wooden floor is drumming in her ears.

Bass lets his eyes roam over her body. She is wearing a black shirt and a knife in her hand. _Nothing else_. She is all blue eyes, long hair, gorgeous mouth and long toned legs. Fuck. He shuts her front door with his boot, without taking his eyes away from her. He takes the knife out her hand and throws it on the ground next to him.

'Come here..' his voice is low and husky before his mouth claims hers. He pushes her against the wall next to her front door. He kisses her deeply.

She tastes the whiskey of the bottle they had shared in the bar on his lips. She moans something into his mouth. The wall behind her feels as hard as his tall body before her. The structure of the wall against her back is rough and cold, his hands are warmth on her skin.

He doesn't take her shirt off. Somehow, it makes what is happening even more heated and intense.

'God…yes…' it is all she can moan into the darkness of the night when he opens the zipper of his pants. It's the last words her lips are able to form before he fills her.

He groans when he feels how wet she is. He thrusts deep inside of her, while he takes her against the wall in the dark. The only sounds in her living room are the sound of rain on her roof, his groans and her moaning his name and his body meeting hers. Her name in a deep, hoarse groan is the last thing that rolls of his lips before he comes and claims what is his.

She is breathing heavily. She feels his strong heartbeat through his shirt. He is holding her close to his chest. Neither of them speaks while she soaks up the way he smells in the dark place between his shoulder and her lips.

When he lifts her in the air, she looks relaxed and well fucked _and fuck_ , he loves seeing her like this, knowing he did this and the she is his, when he is holding her in his arms. She puts her arms around his neck. He walks them both to her bed. When he slowly starts to kiss her, she looks at him with new longing in her eyes.

'Round two…' he grins, with a smug look on his face. She just smiles, it's a rare and honest smile that flows all the way to her eyes _and hell_ , she is beautiful. She pulls him closer and he soaks up how fucking much she wants him. She kisses him before he moves her shirt over her head.

After round two, _and three_ , they fall asleep while the night is lingering somewhere between midnight and sunrise. The last thing Charlie is aware of is him pulling a blanket over her shoulders before he pulls her close.

He is still in her bed when the sun rises and the first light of the morning brushes her face and the strong lines of his shoulders. When Charlie wakes up, his long, muscled arm is wrapped around her middle, his body is curled up to hers. She smiles before she falls asleep again with the warmth of his body close.

* * *

 **Author's Note:** thank you for your comments, follows and favorites. They mean so much to me! Another thank you to Threemagpies, for her support and feedback when I was working on this chapter, Love from Love


	10. Chapter 10

Bass stares into the flames of the fire in front of him. Connor showed up at his place one hour ago. They had made a fire in his backyard. It feels easier, sitting outside and under the stars instead of feeling the heavy pressure of the four walls around them inside his house.

They have barely talked. But what matters is that his kid is here. And that somehow, Connor is sitting next to him, because he wants to. He is sober. The angry fire in his deep eyes is almost gone. Bass can sense that Connor is waiting for something. So he is giving him all the time he needs.

The night around them is quiet. Connor hands him the bottle they are sharing. Bass accepts it before he lets the whiskey burn in the back of his throat. Carefully, Connor takes something out of the pocket of his jacket. Without saying a word, he gives the picture that Charlie has found in the middle of faded autumn leaves, to Bass.

Bass freezes. 'Emma…' he breathes out her name with his hoarse voice.

He is holding the picture in his large hand, while he is looking at Emma who's holding a small baby. Bass instinctively knows that it has to be Connor.

Connor looks at Bass. His heart aches when his dad's eyes fill with tears. Talking to Charlie had made things easier and harder at the same time. They are harder because of the realization of how the cold reality of his mother's decisions had shaped his life. But they are easier because he had been finally able to talk about it with her. He can finally look beyond the rage he feels for his dad, now that he is finally able to understand that the decision to hide him from his dad from the first day he was born, was his mother's.

'She was a good woman, Connor. She loved you. Please don't ever doubt that.'

Bass places a hand on his kid's shoulder as Connor fights his own tears.

'I just wish things had been different.'

'Me too, Connor. You have now idea.' Bass' voice is low and filled with raw tears.

And suddenly he sees Emma's face and he hears his own words echo in his mind. _I want be the Bass that you knew, I want him to be him so badly, you have no idea._ Old familiar hurt of thinking about how things could have been if Emma had made a different choice and if their whole world hadn't gone to tell after the blackout makes it almost impossible to breathe.

He fights the old pain, he fights the _what ifs_ that haunt him every day. The _what if_ of what would have happened if Emma had told him she was pregnant. The _what if_ of the man he could have been if the power had stayed on and Ben and Rachel hadn't fucking helped destroying their wold. The _what if_ of what would have happened if Miles hadn't betrayed him in Philly.

Bass' hand is still on Connor's shoulders. He is not leaving his kid, no matter how fucking hard Connor pushes him away. He won't. _Ever_. He just hopes Connor knows. He gives the bottle back to Connor. They sit in silence, both remembering the woman that has connected their lives for good.

* * *

Charlie was on her way to see Bass. But when she sees both Monroe men sitting close to a fire together, she stops before they realize she is there. And there in the shadows of the night and out of sight, she watches how Connor gives Bass the picture she found in the shadows of another night. Her heart aches when Bass moves his hand to Connor' shoulder. They still don't realize she is there, hidden in the shadows of a line of trees not far from Bass' backyard. And she wants to keep it that way. This moment belongs to them and only them. She watches their familiar shoulders that look so alike. A small smile appears on her face before she turns around and walks away.

* * *

Twenty minutes later, Charlie is sitting at Miles' kitchen table across town. She gave Bass and Connor the space they both need right now and she has walked to Miles, realizing this was the night she would no longer walk away from all the thing she has to ask him.

The kitchen around them is quiet while an oil lamp adds soft light to the darkness of the night. Her mom is already asleep upstairs. Charlie's happy she is not here, because she needs to talk to Miles. It's going to be hard enough without her being her. And this, this will be about her and Miles.

'What's on your mind, kid?' Miles asks, breaking the silence between them while he gets another glass for her from one of the kitchen cabinets. He is happy she is here. He has barely talked to her the last couple of weeks. He misses her.

But the look on Charlie's face tells him exactly why she is here. She is not here just to share his whiskey. He has been pushing her away, he has been avoiding whatever this is going to be. But there is no running away from whatever is next. His heart feels heavy. Because the truth is that he is terrified he is going to lose her after he tells her what she wants to know. And he can't lose her. _Not her._ He can't fucking go back to the dark hole that was his life after he had left Philly _and Bass._

'I need answers, Miles.'

Miles looks away from her. It takes her back to the streets of Atlanta and her meeting with Alec. He had warned her about Miles. He had told her with raw angry edges in his words that Miles would only use her and that she had to ask him what he did to her mom.

When she had confronted Miles with Alec's words, Miles had told her to get the hell away from him. It had hurt. She had walked away. She had let it go. She had just met Miles, her world had been spinning. There had been too much grief, there had been too much damage. She had turned into the woman and fighter she is today while a war that had shook the continent to its core had changed her for good.

But now the war is over. They have moved on. But the past is still there. She has never been able to forget what Alec told her. She has waited long enough.

'I need to know what happened, Miles. 'I just want the truth. I need to _understand_.'

And that last word changes everything in Miles' eyes. He realizes she is not hear to rip his heart apart. She wants to understand. And she deserves it, no matter how miserable it already makes him feel. Something breaks through the black wall that is keeping his heart a prisoner. He knows it's hope. But he is a Matheson, and he doesn't do _hope._ His fingers start to ache for the whiskey that is standing on the table on front of him.

The darkness that seems to belong only to her uncle, appear in his eyes, She knows how hard this is for him. So she talks first. 'Tell me about the day you saw my mom again, after she walked away from us.'

* * *

 **Author's Note** : I loved writing this part of the story, not only because of Bass and Connor and how they move forward in this story, but also because of the fact that Charlie feels strong enough to ask Miles for the truth. The episodes in season 1 where Charlie clearly needs answers and where Miles pushes her away in the Georgia Federation in Atlanta have always fascinated me and I loved writing about that in this chapter. The next chapter is almost ready and I will publish that one soon! Love from Love


	11. Chapter 11

_'Tell me about the day you saw my mom again, after she walked away from us.'_ Miles has to look away from Charlie. Her question takes him back to Philly and to all the years before Philly until time stops at the day he had decided to leave Parris Island to find his brother's family.

'After the blackout we tried to reach you, kid. Bass and I walked across the map, but we were never able to find you.'

Charlie doesn't look away from him. Miles' voice makes it harder to breathe all of a sudden. This is hard. But she is Charlie Matheson _,_ so she stays and listens to his story.

'There was so much death. All that chaos..raping..killing..' His voice is deep, his face looks paler all of a sudden. The memories of the first months after the blackout still haunt him. Bass had been there and together, they had walked their lonely miles through a world they had barely recognized. Miles did not even have to ask his best friend, _his brother_ , to join him, Bass had offered to come with him. It had broken a part of who they both were, while they had been walking through a world broken by the blackout.

The kitchen around him fades before her sitting close to him pulls him back to the present. 'It had to stop Charlie. We had to stop it…you have no idea how fucked up everything was, kid.' He needs her to understand what drove him, _and Bass_ , to their Republic. He needs her to know what kind of hell their world had been, while he had been battling the desperation of watching how the world around him went to hell without doing anything about it.

'We tried to bring back some order, we tried to bring back some sanity.'

He tells her how they had slowly built what had become their Republic in Philly. He can't tell her everything. _Not today_. Images of long desperate nights, death, hunger and harsh winters and watching his best friend break because he lost his family all over again, are too close and are almost ripping him apart. Miles doesn't know if Bass has told her about Shelly. He doesn't want to tell her something that's not his to tell.

But he does mention meeting the Neville's and a young Jason Neville. Neville had been a shadow of the man he would become. It breaks his fucking heart to tell her, because her eyes cloud with pain and something else at the same time when he mentions the Neville kid. But she has to know, she has to know where their story had started. He tells her how their refugee camp had become a small village, how they had gathered strength and numbers, how more people had joined them.

Miles' emotions cause a storm in her own heart. Charlie has never heard him talk about those first months and years after the blackout. It's hard and new and surreal at the same time when Miles mentions the Neville's and Jason. It is all kinds of weird to think about Bass this way.

He tells her about how he and Bass had slowly started to become the men people looked to for help, order, leadership and protection. The Generals were born slowly in those years. Their road had lead them all the way to Philly and him being the Commanding General of their Militia. Their road had lead them to the day they had been sitting in Bass' office and realized they had to find Ben, to find his knowledge to bring back power and rebuild the world they once knew.

Miles remembers Bass sitting at his large wooden desk in his office and their shared look when they had decided they _would_ find Ben. He remembers the taste of the whiskey they had been drinking and the touch of the cool glass of whiskey in his hand while the late morning light had streamed through the windows of Independence Hall.

Miles stops himself right there, fighting for some control now the past rushes back. 'Your dad called me and Bass on the night of the blackout, kid.' Shock appears in Charlie's eyes, while Miles continues. 'He warned us but he was never able to tell us more. Bass and I have always know that he must have known more about why the power went off.'

Charlie's heart feels raw. She remembers candles and ice cream from the night the world had changed for good. But she has never realized her dad had called Miles, she has never realized Bass had been right there.

What happens in Charlie's eyes when he mentions Ben's role in all of this, breaks his fucking heart. But she has to understand, so he keeps on talking.

'Bass and I asked Ben to join us in Philly, but it was Rachel who showed up.'

He still remembers how it had felt, hearing Rachel's voice again after so many years, before he had turned around to face her. He remembers walking into Bass' office later that afternoon, informing him that Rachel was in Philly. Miles had looked away with heaviness in his eyes. Bass had look confused while he had slowly looked up from the report he had been reading.

He remembers the cold look in Rachel's eyes when he had walked her into Bass' office and she had met Bass. It had been hell, standing between her and his best friend.

Miles tells her about those first weeks after her arrival in Independence Hall and how Rachel had tried to make him forget about Ben, how their lust and self-hate had started their twisted game of want and control between himself and her.

He tells her how the cold battle had started between her and Bass. He tells her about the fucked up game of control and truth had made them all to things they had never thought they would do to each other while they had tried to get the truth from Rachel and she had tried to manipulate them to keep that truth away from them.

She had refused to talk and weeks had turned into months and years. It had been the beginning of long years that would end with him holding a gun to his best friend's head in the middle of the fucking night.

'We hoped Ben would have the answers. And when your mom showed up… we hoped she would help bring back the power to stop all the madness.'

'But she didn't….' Charlie says, looking at Miles.

Miles shakes his head. The raw no is unsaid but lingering between them.

There is still so much to talk about but Miles isn't sure they can take anymore. The silence presses heavily on both their shoulders. When he finally has the courage to look at her, the look on her face adds more darkness to his eyes.

Slowly _and finally_ , the invisible pieces of the puzzle of her life are slowly making sense. Charlie knows they both need their space, _because she is so much like him_ , so she gets up from her chair.

Miles' eyes follow her before he turns his head away. His eyes are filled with raw hurt and shame. Charlie wants to walk over to him, but she can't. _Not this time._ Her heart and body feel too heavy with everything Miles has revealed from their past, a past that is also hers. The fact that her dad knew about the blackout and that Miles, her mom and Bass had this whole life in Philly, while she had been living hers, is a harsh and sharp reality in the middle of the night.

When she is about to walk to the kitchen door, Miles finally and unexpectedly gets up. When she looks at him, he looks even taller in the shadows of the kitchen. He walks to her. And then, he wraps his strong arms that feel like home around her. She breathes in his scent while she leans into him. He wraps his hand around her head. His fingers brush her hair and soothes her pain. He presses a kiss in her hair before he has to let her go. She doesn't look back when she walks out of the door.

* * *

It's late. But after her talk with Miles, she needs someone who remembers what it was like, living in Sylvania estates and who also understands what her life is right now. That person has walked with her from that old life to where she is now.

She knows it's late, but she also knows Aaron has trouble sleeping now they have all settled down. Soft light is playing with the fabric of curtains behind the windows of his living room when she knocks on his door.

When Aaron opens his door, his warm eyes greet her. One look at her and Aaron knows something is wrong. 'You okay, kiddo?' He asks when he gestures at her to come inside, before he closes the door behind her.

He has known this girl since she was in pigtails. He has watched her grow up. She is fearless and stubborn and so strong. He loves her as his family. She is part of his heart and he knows, without a doubt, that Charlie feels the same way. He's happy she finds him when she needs to talk or when her heart is in trouble.

He knows her, she deals with her things on her own. And as a person who loves her so much, that lonely strength is hard to watch. So he's grateful she is here tonight.

'You sure it's okay? I know it's late.'

'Priscilla went to bed and I couldn't sleep anyway, and if I am going to open this..' he walks to the kitchen before he comes back with a bottle of something old and good, 'there better be a Matheson present.'

Charlie tries to smile at him but she fails miserably while he puts two glasses on the coffee table in front of them.

'So, what happened?'

'Miles..' there is heaviness in her words that fills her blue eyes.

'So you guys finally talked?'

She nods and takes a sip from her glass, her eyes meeting his.

Aaron has been there from day one, he was right there when they had walked into Miles' bar in Chicago. He knows how much Miles cares about Charlie, even more than she knows herself. But he also knows how much Miles has been pushing her away when she needs to talk.

'I am here if you need me, kiddo.'

'I know.' A shimmer of tears clouds her eyes when she looks up, but a pale smile breaks through.

'But the last thing you need right now is more questions, right?'

A grateful look appears in her eyes.

'Well…' Aaron grabs the bottle before he fills their glasses, 'then let's just enjoy this insane bottle of whiskey I found.'

The town outside is asleep while the fireplace slowly burns. They drink and talk about things that live in their memories and that always add a softness to the rawness in her. When she gets up and is about to leave, Aaron looks at her with a knowing smile on his face.

'So…Monroe huh?'

Charlie smiles, while she feels how her cheeks fill with warmth. 'Yeah…'

Aaron should be more surprised. He isn't. He has seen them together, sitting in the bar, their shoulders brushing, when they had not been aware he had been watching them. He has seen the murderous look on Bass' face when other men look at her without her even being aware of it.

He was right there, standing next to Charlie on the night when they had thought Texas had executed Monroe. He had watched her fight her tears and her feelings. Even before she had fully realized it herself, Aaron had seen it in the way Monroe had looked at her and in the way she had looked at him. He had seen in in the way she stood up for him and saved hus life, in the way he had her back and in the protective steel blue of Monroe's eyes when he had looked at Charlie.

'What…no judgment?' The vulnerability in her voice almost breaks his heart. Monroe wouldn't be his …well…first choice for Charlie, with his murderous lust for blood, control and destruction and him being a _total_ asshole. But he has watched them, he has watched them fight. The world, _their past,_ themselves, _each other_. He knows what they have found with each other.

'I just want to see you happy, kiddo. But if he hurts you… I will kill him.'

Charlie grins while she raises one of her eyebrows.

'…or…you know, I will at least _try_ to kill him.' Aaron adds.

It is hard to put into words how much this means to her. So she just smiles and hopes he gets it. When he opens his front door and the cool air of the night meets them, Aaron grins.

'What?' Charlie asks.

'Oh… I am just picturing your mom's face when she finds out about you and Monroe.'

Charlie grins back. 'Goodnight.' She hugs him, 'And thank you.' Charlie says softly while Aaron embraces her.

Aaron smiles. 'Goodnight kiddo, see you soon.' He looks at the grey clouds in her eyes, '..take care of yourself all right?'

When she walks into the night, Aaron looks at her. He remembers the girl that had wanted to see the world before that world would take so much from her.

He loves her. He worries about her. He has promised Ben that he would take care of her if anything would happen to him. And there, standing in the doorway, he realizes that Ben probably knew that the Militia, _Miles or Bass_ , would find them. Ben must have known about the threat that had been waiting outside their town walls. It must have been one of the reasons why he and Charlie had gotten into so many fights when Charlie had tried to see the world and Ben had tried to protect her from it.

 _Take care of Charlie, make sure she is all right._ He can still hear Ben's voice, years ago. They had shared a bottle of late night whiskey on a late autumn night, in the home Ben had shared with Maggie while Danny and Charlie had been asleep. He has always wanted to honor that promise to Ben.

He has watched her struggle. He has been there when she lost so much. But something about the way her eyes had lit up and what had been hiding in her smile when he had mentioned Monroe, tells him that maybe, after everything that has happened, she will be all right. The full moon escapes from its shield of heavy clouds and crisp air fills the air while he keeps standing in his doorway, following her with his eyes while a smile appears on his face.

* * *

 **Author's Note** : I have always wanted to write this conversation between Charlie and Miles, when Miles finally gives her some of the answers Charlie has been waiting for. I also enjoyed writing her conversation with Aaron and to explore what is growing between her and Bass from another angle. I have always loved that Aaron was the one who was standing next to her on the night when Charlie thinks Texas has executed Monroe. Rachel wasn't there, Miles wasn't there, but he was. I still love that scene from season 2 so very much. I love writing his support and him being able to both see and understand what is happening between Bass and Charlie. Thank you so much for your follows, favorites and comments, they mean the world to me! Love from Love


	12. Chapter 12

When Charlie finally gets home, the heaviness of what Miles has finally told her is still so close. The whiskey she had shared with Aaron is losing its soothing touch. The sharp edges of reality catch up with her now her numbness is starting to fade. Emotions she has pushed away for so long take over.

She has no idea how late it is, while the night lingers somewhere between midnight and sunrise _. Time doesn't matter tonight,_ she thinks. Her living room feels cold without a fire in her fireplace. _It doesn't matter,_ she decides.

She sits on her couch that feels too big for her alone. She closes her eyes. She tries to process everything Miles has told her. All those years where her mom had been missing, had suddenly turned from blank space to a heavy truth. _Miles_ has moved them from blank, black years to something real.

Chaotic thoughts of Bass sitting at his desk, of Miles leading his Militia and her mother living her life in Philly fill her mind before they take her to a young Jason. Realizing Jason had been there before she had found Miles in Chicago and that the Neville's had lived a part of their lives with Miles and Bass, had hurt. Without her being able to stop herself, she's back in Austin on the day she had fought Jason and saved her own life but lost a part of who she was for good.

What's suddenly so clear is that Bass' story hadn't started in Philly on the day she had met him. Somehow, because of blinding hate and rage, she has never been able to truly and fully realize he had been there, when the lights went out, that he had been there with Miles, trying to survive in a blackout world. Her amount of stubborn hate hadn't allowed her to look beyond the General she had met in Philly and see the man that had been a victim of a blackout world.

What hurts the most is the bitter betrayal. _The betrayal of her mother walking away._ Of missing all those years they could have had together. _Her mother could have taken her and Danny with her_ , a part of her heart whispers.

Her next thoughts are like a heavy drum in the silence of the night, while the chaos moves away and what hurts so much is suddenly so clear.

 _Her mother hadn't been dead. She had been living her life. In Philly. Because she had chosen that life._

And then, _finally_ , tears she hasn't allowed to be there for so long, catch up with her. She doesn't know how to stop them. She cries silently, until she lets go completely.

When there are no more tears to cry, her living room is quiet and dark. Her loneliness presses heavily on her. She slowly walks to the kitchen and grabs the bottle of booze that Miles had left in her kitchen a couple of weeks ago. She walks back to her couch, while her night slowly crawls towards dawn.

* * *

Bass moves his hands deeper into the pockets of his leather jacket, refusing to make eye contact with all the nobody's in this fucking town he doesn't give a shit about. He is on his way to see Charlie. He hasn't seen her for a couple of days and _fuck_ , he is worried about her. He has to know if she is all right.

When it comes to her, worrying about her has always been there, even when she had still tried to kill him. Somehow, she had found him. And suddenly she had been there, crashing into an empty swimming pool in the middle of the night. He had watched her until she had woken up. He had fought the urge to kill that asshole bounty hunter who had dared to touch her. He had to look away to keep his unexpected and new protective rage under control when he had.

He knocks on her door. She doesn't answer. He tries again. 'Charlie…hey, it's me…Bass.'

Charlie is standing in the dark on the other side of the door while she is listening to his voice. it has been two days since she talked to Miles. She wants to walk to him, she wants to open her door, but she can't. She is silently begging him to go. She closes her eyes, cursing the part of herself that responds to him being here.

Bass' eyes fill with a new intensity. Tension appears in his jaws when she doesn't answer. Worry mixes inside his blood. 'Dammit, Charlie…open up. I am not leaving.' His voice sounds like deep thunder in the distance.

Charlie had no intention of letting him in, but the raw worry that is hiding in his deep voice, makes her walk to her door.

When she finally opens her door, Bass tries to make eye contact. She doesn't look at him. She looks pale. The hollowness in her eyes is like taking a fucking bullet. Panic starts to spread through his chest.

'Hey, can I come in?' He asks in a low voice. She finally looks at him, _just for one second_ , before she steps back and lets him in.

When she walks back to her couch without looking at him, Bass doesn't know what to do. His eyes move through her living room. He notices the bottle of whiskey standing on her coffee table. It's almost empty. It's dark inside. He hates seeing her like this. This is not her. She knows how to take care of herself. Something is fucking wrong.

'Dammit Charlie…' he silently curses under his breath, when he feels how fucking cold her living room is. Without asking her, he starts a fire in her fireplace.

He gets out of his leather jacket and sits down next to her, but she doesn't look up. 'Charlie..what happened?'

'Miles and I finally talked…' Her voice is fading in the dark, lacking her usual strength.

Bass immediately freezes. He knows how much Charlie needed her answers from Miles. He also knows how long the asshole has been trying to push her away. Miles is so much like his old man, both Matheson men carry a dark ability with them to keep all their hurt locked deep inside and push away the people they love.

He locks his jaws. Old betrayal, rage and disappointment battle inside his chest. Cold paranoid steel screams at him that Miles probably couldn't wait to make him the ultimate bad guy in all of this.

He swallows. Tension flows through his jaws and shoulders. Steel fills his eyes. He has no idea in hell what Miles has told her. Panic fills his thoughts because he doesn't know if what is happening between him and Charlie is already broken because of Miles' words. The thought of losing her fills his chest with raw tension.

'He told me, Bass.' Her voice sounds less flat, and there is a soft strength returning to her words. Unexpected hope rushes back and breaks through the cold wall around his heart when she says his name, without the loathing or hate he expected to find in her voice.

He finally has the balls to look up. Her big blue eyes filled with pain are waiting for him. 'He told me about the night my dad called him. He told me how you both waited at base and how you refused to let him leave without you and offered to go with him when he wanted to find us. He told me about those months on the road.'

Bass swallows hard. It feels like a lifetime ago but the remembers those days so clearly. The fact that Miles has told her the truth means a fucking lot. The paranoid panic starts to fade. The fact that they are finally talking about this is so unexpected and raw and real, that they both stare at each other.

Time slowly moves on until something changes in her eyes. She gets up and walks to her fireplace. It's dark and quiet outside. The moon adds pale light to the world outside. She stares into the flames in front of her. Bass gives her the space she needs until she finally turns around. Her eyes are filled with a storm of emotions that tell him how much she is hurting and how angry she is.

'You…Miles…my mom…you had this whole life in Philly….' Her voice breaks and tears start to cloud her eyes. She is pushing away the tears she doesn't want him to see, because sharing the truth that hasn't left her alone since she has talked to Miles, hurts so much and she is afraid of what could happen between them when she shares it with him, the man that keeps on surprising her heart. She's afraid to tumble over a sharp cliff to an unknown with him.

'You had this whole life in Philly…' she looks directly at him, _'….and I wasn't there.'_

Bass' heart is fucking breaking for her because he fucking gets it. He moves his hand over his face in a desperate way.

'You have no idea how hard it was…' Raw tears move from her face and disappear slowly towards the soft skin of her neck.

' _Fuck_ ….I do know…' contained frustration and rage mixes with his voice. 'I get it Charlie…' her name is a hoarse desperate plea. He realizes how much this must hurt for her. Because he has thought about it so many times.

He never understood why Ben and Rachel hadn't showed up in Philly, _together_. He has never understood why they hadn't taken Charlie and Danny with them. They would have been safe. Together with Miles, he would have kept them safe.

The sincere amount of hurt _for her hurt_ that she finds in his eyes when their eyes lock again is too much to take and Charlie has to turn away from him, unable to face him. All of a sudden, the fact that he truly seems to understand what she is talking about, makes it hard to breath.

Bass knows about Miles' darkness. But this is the first time he watches her break. Bass has never seen her like this. Charlie has been strong as hell. She keeps on going, she keeps on fighting. Hell, she doesn't even realize herself how strong she is herself.

Desperation because of so much of her hurt fills his chest. He moves his hand through his hair. He wants to pull her to his chest, he needs to soak up her darkness so she doesn't have to feel it herself. But he feels frozen inside. He doesn't want to say or do something to upset her even more, afraid to fuck things up. The old battle of wanting to be the man he wants to be _with_ her and _for_ her and keeping his distance is back.

But he can't take her heavy sadness anymore. He gets up and walks over to her. He doesn't say anything when he stops right next to her. Her body almost disappears in the shadow of his body. When he moves his arm around her and puts his hand on her shoulder, she's trembling. His fingers brush the skin of her neck. He can sense how cold and exhausted she is. He has spent so many days with her on the road, he knows her. She has pushed herself too far.

'Come on…' his voice is filled with deep warmth. He nods to her couch and slowly, she lets him walk her back to her couch with his hand on her shoulder blades.

Bass sits down next to her. He knows she is not telling him everything. He senses she is so close to share what she needs to share with him. So he shuts up and waits. He needs her to know he is here.

Bass slowly moves a lock of hair out of her face. He gently places it behind her ear. He's encouraging her to finally share what she has kept locked inside for so long now.

What is written in his eyes finally breaks through the last defenses around what she has been carrying with her for years.

'Danny…I would have given my life for him.' There is strength in her words and fire in her eyes when she looks at him, reminding them both of the day she had stood in front of Strausser, _and him_ , and what she had done to protect her brother. Bass swallows old shame and guilt away. But then the fire in her eyes fades and sadness fills her eyes and voice, _because she knows he knows about brothers and loyalty._

'But it was hard…taking care of him.' She has never said this out loud, she has never wanted to share this with anyone because guilt for feeling the way she does, is never far away. But it was hard. She was so young when she had felt the heavy responsibility of taking care of him. As an adult, she can finally understand how big that responsibility was.

'And when my mom had stayed…or when she had taken us with her…things would have been different. Because taking care of him, Danny's health… never letting him out of my sight, the long nights, making sure he was still breathing at night…it was hard.' The unsaid _my life would have been different_ , is clear without her having to say it out loud.

'And admitting that…' she looks straight at Bass while she breathes out slowly to brace herself from all the pain that comes in new waves, '…it feels like betraying him..' Tears move over her face.

Bass swallows his own tears away while he moves his body towards her. His eyes soften. He cups her cheeks with his large hands. His eyes are filled with intense strong and honest care. He needs to her to listen. Someone has to fucking tell her. 'You are not betraying him, Charlie…you were so young, dammit…' His words are filled with empathy and outrage for the way her life has been and for the responsibility she had felt at such a young age. He feels rage for the way she is doubting herself and for all the guilt in her eyes. 'You did everything you could for him.'

She blinks and keeps looking at him while his words reach her and something shifts inside of her. His eyes gently hold hers. He is close. He doesn't look away. She doesn't know why, but the fact that he lets her talk and acknowledges what she feels, gives her more solace than she could ever imagine. The fact that Bass is sitting right next to her while he sees her and only her on one of the darkest nights of her life, adds silence to her chaotic thoughts.

But then, the amount of comfort she finds so close to his chest with his hands gently wrapped around her cheeks, suddenly scares her. She slowly pulls back and looks away from him.

Bass lets her go while he watches her fight herself. He slowly moves his arm over the back of her couch without touching her, creating a safe place where she can think and breathe and just _be_.

She sits there, right next to him, on her couch in the middle of the night. She is so close to him but without looking at him. And finally, the storm inside of her calms down. The warmth of the fire in the fireplace finally reaches her.

Bass can sense the change inside of her. It takes her a while to come back to him, but when she finally and slowly leans into the couch and the lines of his body, his whole fucking body responds. It's pathetic, but pride _and so much fucking more_ fills his chest.

Charlie listens to the sound of the fire in front of her while she disappears into the comfort of his body close to his. His fingers slowly touch her shoulder before they gently move through her hair.

Her tears and the past in her present have been exhausting her. She has barely slept since she has talked to Miles. She doesn't know when sleep has pulled her away from her hurt, but suddenly she feels Bass' body close to hers and the heavy, reassuring weight of his arm moving around her before she is being lifted into the air. While he walks her to her bed, his scent is close, her forehead brushes against his jaw while the familiar heavy rhythm of his boots hitting the floor beneath her, is close. She sleeps in her clothes that night, with Bass close to her and his arm wrapped around her.


	13. Chapter 13

Moonlight streams through her bedroom. Her body feels warm against his. She mutters something in her sleep. Bass softly whispers something soothing into her ear. A smile appears on his face while she melts into his embrace. He can't sleep. Not after having to watch how she had been in so much pain and how the hurt of their shared past had been written in her eyes. Not after what is happening between them, against all odds. Not after talking about the blackout and all those first months of trying to survive in that world with his brother. Not after talking about those years that had led to their Republic and the night his brother had betrayed everything that had meant the world to him.

She fell asleep against his chest hours ago, while he had been sitting next to her on her couch. He had slowly pulled her into his arms before he had carried her to her bed. It had reminded him of another night _, now years ago_ , when he had carried her in his arms, out and away from a bar he knows she never mentions because the scars of that night are too damn hard to carry with her. He gets it. The memories of those assholes who had dared to touch her, still makes his blood boil with rage.

The truth is that he had needed her to lead him back to Miles. But when he had realized what those assholes were going to do when he had watched her defend herself through one of the smudged windows of that bar, unexpected and new protective rage had filled his chest. And not just because of the fact that she was a part of his brother, but because of the woman he had met in an empty swimming pool, her eyes filled a promise that she _would_ kill him.

He had carried her to safety that night. He had watched her. He had made sure she had made it through that night. He is watching her again. And there is no way in hell he is leaving her tonight. He is holding her. But he is not just holding _her_. He is holding her trust. He is guarding the trust she has placed in him. She has no fucking idea how much she soothes all the raw edges inside of his heart.

When the light outside starts to change into pale grey morning light, he finally falls asleep curled up around her.

* * *

Charlie is on her way to see Bass. Her thoughts flow to wide shoulders and blue eyes while his scent of whiskey and leather is close. Morning has moved to the late afternoon. This morning, she had woken up with his scent close and his arm wrapped around her in a protective, almost possessive way. He had been asleep. She hadn't pushed his arm away. Maybe she should have been more surprised he was still there. But she wasn't. She _had_ listened to the early morning sounds and the rhythm of his breath while her thoughts had moved back to everything they had talked about last night and the things she was finally able to say out loud. She had thought about how him being there had made a difference.

She has no idea what she is going to do or say when she gets to his house. But something has changed between the both of them, _again_. It has happened slowly and with every new day they had spent on the road since she had found him in New Vegas. She knows that there is no running away from what is happening between her and Monroe. She knows she doesn't want to. She doesn't want to run or lose herself in endless days on the road. She doesn't know what will happen next between her and him. She does know she wants to see him.

Their deep voices reach her even before she steps into Bass' house. When Charlie walks into his kitchen, both Monroe men are facing each other. Connor is looking straight at Bass with a heavy accusation in his deep eyes. Bass' jaws are filled with tension that flows through the muscles of his neck. Bass turns his head and looks at her with something in his eyes that wakes up something cold inside of her. Connor keeps on looking straight at Bass.

'What is there to think about?' disbelieve fills Connor's voice.

Bass moves his hand over his face. There is a mix of empty hurt and frustration in his eyes. Charlie looks from Connor back to Bass. His unspoken but heavy curse for her walking into whatever this is, lingers between them.

'What is going on here?' her voice breaks through the violent tension between the two men standing so close to her.

Bass barely looks at her when his hoarse voice fills the space between them. 'I got an offer from Blanchard to lead a new camp at the eastern border.'

Suddenly, Charlie can't move while a sharp numbness starts to spread through her chest. She knows they are all trying to move on. She knows she and Bass are barely _something._ She knows that with his experience and rank, he has no reason to stay where he is now. But the possibility of him leaving does something to her that should not be happening.

'Come on dad…moving east…it's a chance to start and rebuild everything we have talked about.'

It feels like time stands still when Connor talks. Charlie freezes. She thought they had moved on from the both of them craving more power. Bass can hardly meet her eyes and it makes something dark swirl around her heart.

Bass looks from Connor to Charlie, while Connor's words echo in the space between them. He is trying to reach her and although she is looking straight at him, she feels miles away. What's screaming inside her eyes makes a first wave of panic reach the surface. He wants to tell her this is not what it looks like. He wants to walk over to her, _right the hell now_ , to tell her this is not what she thinks it is. Because hell, the way she looks at him is killing him.

It's true, he is thinking about Blanchard's offer. He wants to move forward and leave this town. But not in the way she thinks and there is no fucking way he wants to use this as a way to start another Republic because he never wants to lead the hell that been the Republic left behind by Miles. He never wants to have to deal with the fall out of what it did to him. He _never ever_ wants to go back to that hell.

'Rebuild what?' Charlie asks, while she is fighting the sickening wave of needing to know and not wanting to know at the same time.

'The Republic, everything he pissed away…everything we talked about in Mexico.' Connor answers with raw desperate fire in his voice.

'Connor...come on...' Bass looks at Connor again, with a devastating plea in his eyes.

It's the loneliness in Connor's eyes and the desperation in Bass' voice that makes her heart ask what needs to be asked. 'Why is the Republic such a big deal for you?' Charlie asks, meeting Connor's eyes with a calm look in hers.

'Because..' Connor spits out before his wall finally tumbles down, 'because he promised me all right? He promised me that we would get back everything he has pissed away when I left Mexico with him. He promised we would get it back _together_.'

It fucking hurts having to listen to his son and to realize how fucking much his promise of getting the Republic back _together,_ means to Connor. He wants to take a step forward to his kid, but he can't fucking move.

Connor breathes in deeply before he continues. He looks from Charlie to Bass. 'Do you know what it was like, standing before you in that cage, while the crowd was going nuts, knowing I had to kill you, after you taught me how to kill you? _Do you?'_

Bass tries to swallow the raw pain away when the memories of that night rush back to him. He remembers how the miserable grey daylight and the rain had found them, on the morning he had believed he would give his life for his son. He can still feel the hard steel of the fence pressing in his back, not knowing if Charlie had been alive. Knowing he would never see his brother again and that he would never be able to try and rebuild what they had lost and make up for all of this mistakes.

'And you made me promise… you made me promise to get the Republic back, so it would mean something after all the things you had done.' Connor continues.

The crowd sheering and Gould's sickening smile is close again, while both Connor and Bass remember that day. They are back in the fight cage where they had faced each other, standing in front of each other just as they are doing now.

'And I promised you, that people would remember your name.' Connor's words fill the entire kitchen. It had been a promise between both men, a promise from man to man, forged between father and son.

Charlie looks from Connor to Bass. It hurts having to listen to Connor. They have never talked about this. When Duncan had captured her and Gould had driven her past the cage where he had kept Connor and Bass, she had met their eyes, not knowing what would happen, knowing that death probably would be close for all of them. She remembers the gentle desperate look in Connor's eyes while their eyes had met. She remembers the steel in Bass' eyes while he had been trying to distance himself from her and everything that was about to happen.

And she finally gets it. She knows about his life in Mexico, she knows about those lonely years. She knows how much Connor misses Emma. She finally understands how Connor held onto a promise Bass made to him and why he is still holding on to it. It is all he has left. _Bass_ is all he has left.

She takes a step towards both him and Bass while she looks at Connor. 'I get it, believe me…I do. You want someone to choose _you._ ' Her words linger in the air while she is unable to keep her own pain out of her voice. She can feel Bass' eyes on her but she can't look at him. She knows about lonely years, she knows about people who leave, she knows about people who die.

Connor can't talk all of a sudden, but she understands how hard it is to face this . His nod is all she needs. The pale cloud of tears in his eyes makes her nod back.

Bass can't take his eyes of her. He already knew she is strong as hell. He has called her a _Mini Miles._ But fuck, she is so much more. She is standing in the middle of a war zone of broken promises and family who should have been together.

And she is still here. She hasn't walked away. She is trying to talk to Connor, she is trying to reach him and push through his wall. The fact she is doing this for him is breaking his fucking heart, heartbeat after heartbeat.

Silence fills the kitchen. The day outside moves on without the three of them. The tension in Bass' jaws and shoulders is finally disappearing. But at that same moment, when she thinks that Connor finally returns to both her and Bass, Connor looks at her. What she finds inside his eyes almost brings her through her knees. Because just when she thinks they have a chance to become more than they are all now, she can sense how everything starts to slip away with a devastating unstoppable force.

She can sense the battle inside of Connor, and then, the years filled with hurt, loss and the darkness they had forged inside of him, win. She looks at Connor and the return of dark steel and the hollow need for more in his deep eyes. It reminds her so much of the General she once met in Philadelphia that's it almost impossible to breathe.

Charlie knows how close Connor is to leaving. Charlie senses close Bass is to breaking. But she doesn't know what to do.

'I can't believe we're here again…' Connor looks straight at Bass. 'I can't do this anymore dad.'

Bass voice' breaks. 'Connor…please….' Endless desperate pain fills his hoarse voice.

Connor looks from her to Bass. It only takes seconds but the seconds stretch out in front of them like hours.

Panic fills Bass' eyes at the moment Connor turns away from him. Charlie can feel Bass' heart break, standing close to him. Vulnerability is filling his eyes she has never seen in there before. Connor walks out of the kitchen and out of the house. And all there is left, is the sound of the kitchen door that slams shut after he has walked out of the kitchen. The sound of his boots outside fade away.

The silence around them is deafening. His panic changes into hollow darkness so quickly that it almost brings him to his knees.

Charlie is about to take a step towards him but then familiar steel control moves as a mask over his face. Her heart fills with numbness and a loss that she can't name yet. Charlie opens and closes her mouth, unable to say what she was about to say.

'Just go,' he barks, while he looks at a spot on the floor in front of him. When she doesn't move the cold steel moves through his words, 'Dammit Charlie…get out.' He looks at her with cold eyes. She is standing right in front of him with an impossible amount of blue hurt in her eyes before she turns around.

It hurts more than she will ever know to push her away and having to watch her walk out of his door.


	14. Chapter 14

_When he barks at Charlie to get the hell out_ , self-loathing mixes with guilt and dark frustration because of his inability the man she deserves him to be. _She can't be here_. Not now. Her being here when Connor turned his back on him, him trying to hide all his shame for not being able to be a father to him, _after losing his baby girl and the woman he loved, unable to protect both of them_ , and all the broken grief for the _what if's_ of his life, center inside his chest, before all those memories and emotions collide into dark cold unstoppable rage. There is so much tension in his jaws, neck and shoulders that it hurts.

Having to watch how his violent aggression is reaching her like a bullet, is hell. A deep voice inside of him screams to stop hurting her. But he can't. She tries to hide it from him, _hell he knows her_ , but she can't hide the hurt in her eyes, _eyes he knows so damn well_. She can't hide the lonely defeat in her shoulders, _not from him_. Her mouth is slightly opened and there is so much hurt in her eyes, that it's killing him. He fucking hates himself when she finally turns around and walks out of his kitchen and away from him. It adds more powerless rage to the mix of his hurt and shame. After she has walked out of his kitchen, there is only silence left. He stares into the empty space of his kitchen while daylight slowly fades.

 _When Bass barks at her to get out_ , his words cut through her like a knife. Charlie feels stunned. She feels numb, while a cold wave of sickening hurt starts to spread from her chest to her throat. Bass' eyes are cold. The dark storm of his emotions spread as a steel mask over his face. It feels like everything that has happened between them, is shattered. It takes all of her stubborn will to tell herself to move, to take a step away from him, while everything inside of her screams she wants to stay and fight through his darkness and reach him. But she doesn't know how to fight through whatever this is and Bass pushing her away the way he just did.

So she walks away from him and everything they have become. She refuses to feel the tears that are too close when she turns around and walks away from him. When she gets outside, there is an afternoon breeze. The sun is shining, The sky is clear. But not for her. She walks home without remembering how she got there. When she walks inside and closes her front door behind her, she leans into the heavy wood of the door behind her. It's cold and hard against her back when she finally lets her tears flow and a silent sob escapes from her lips.

 _When Connor gets home_ , he doesn't know what to do or what to feel next. What just happened is still pulsating through him with a sickening heaviness. He feels an overwhelming familiar loneliness pressing on his shoulders, a loneliness that has been there since the moment his mother let him leave with Miles. _She let him leave and never came for him in Mexico_. _He never saw her again._ It's the same loneliness of having to watch his uncle and aunt die and his life on the street. It's the same loneliness of knowing that his life in the cartel was never the life he should have lived. The sense of power, the way Nunez had treated him and made him feel and the endless available girls that treated him like he was everything had silenced that loneliness for a while, until his dad, Miles and his whack job blonde had walked into his life.

And after all their years on the road, after all the fights and a huge wall around his heart when it comes to being able to feel what he should feel for his own father, somehow his mind and heart are chasing for more of need for power, to matter and to be someone defined by the clear lines of control. It's the only way he knows how to deal with all of it.

Charlie is right, he wants his dad to choose him, _just him,_ just this once _._ He wants what his dad has with Miles. He wants what Charlie has with Miles. It is why it had hurt so much when Charlie had pushed herself to find Miles when he had been missing after Austin, even when Miles sometimes was a total asshole by shutting her out when she had needed to talk about her past and even when Neville was still out there. He had been jealous, because of her willingness to find so hard _for Miles_. It's a loyalty he had been craving for at that moment. The jealousy and the anger that had followed had prevented him to follow her and have her back out there. He should have been there for her, because she had put her life on the line in New Vegas for his dad and him and _especially_ after she had trusted him enough to share with him that Neville had put a gun to her face, when her mom and his dad had been too busy with their own bullshit and emotional baggage to pay attention to what was happening to her.

It's why it fucking hurts to see Miles with his dad, to see what his dad is still willing to be and do for Miles. It's an almost unbreakable force, and the truth is, Connor wants _that_. He knows Charlie is right, a part inside of him that belongs to who he used to be in Jasper, realizes that more control or power won't fill that emptiness. But his dad promised they would get the Republic bac. _Together._ It had made him feel like he finally could belong somewhere again. It had made the loneliness stop for a while. And now, it's just another broken promise. It's another thing he thought he could hold onto.

And now feels like everything is falling apart. His father turning down his idea of rebuilding their Republic after receiving his offer from Blanchard to move east, was another blow. He hates how weak it makes him feel. He hates walking away from his dad, even after everything that has happened. He hates walking away from Charlie when she had tried to talk to him and try to understand what was happening, because the truth is, he cares about her. He knows she is not his, but he cares deeply about her. And he doesn't know what the hell is happening, he just knows rage and old hurt took over. They are still there. But now, the silence and loneliness are rushing back and filling his heart again. He doesn't want to be stay but he also hates he doesn't want to leave it all behind.

 _When Miles pours himself another glass of whiskey across town_ , the kitchen around him feels too damn quiet. He doesn't know what the hell to do. He just got in another fight with Rachel, and although he loves her, _he knows that won't chance no matter what kind of fucked up they are,_ he doesn't know if they will ever be able to be who they could have been if their past had not been filled with all of their stupid. He's tired of her pushing him for things he is not ready for, he's tired about thinking about doing the right thing and her constant nagging to talk about things he doesn't want to talk about. He is tired of her making Bass the ultimate bad while Miles himself had been there for a lot of all their ugly shit from the past in Philly.

He misses Charlie. She is a stubborn pain in the ass, but god, he misses her. Hell, he even misses Bass. He misses talking to him and how Bass used to be there for all the stupid he got himself into and how he used to be there for these kind of lonely, miserable nights, especially when it comes to all the miserable nights losing himself in how him and Rachel had been messing with his head. The empty chair next to him feels too damn empty. The bruises on Miles' face from their fight are almost gone, but Bass' words, his rage, and the hurt Miles knows so well was that's hiding behind all his brother's rage, are still there like another echo and decision from the past he can't outrun. He stares into the darkness in front of him while he puts the glass of whiskey to his lips.

One week later

Connor is sitting on his porch, while he is cleaning his weapons. When an unexpected sound breaks through the silence of his day, Connor looks up to find Miles standing in front of his house.

'Hey kid, can we talk?'

Old rage immediately reaches the surface when Miles calls him _kid_. Connor grits his teeth when he hears Miles and the casual tone of his words that he is trying to use to cover up all of his bullshit.

Connor gets up and walks towards Miles with big, angry steps. His boots hit the wood of the porch. He stops right in front of Miles.

'You want to talk? _So,_ talk.' His spits out his words, his words are sharp, his eyes are filled with irritation and there is a challenge moving from his shoulders through his whole body when he faces Miles.

Miles feels like hell. A part of him is fucking tired of thinking about doing the right thing. He is tired of the endless arguments and the battle inside of him of what he did, who he became and who he used to be. But Charlie walking into in his life, and taking his brother all the way to Mexico to find Connor and seeing Connor again after realizing both him and Charlie went through hell, it has changed things. Connor and Charlie, they both made him have to face the past and the decisions he was part of that had shaped their lives. So it is killing him to stand in front of Connor and his rage that reminds him so much of Bass, his fingers are trembling and his whole body screams for booze, but Connor needs to hear this.

Miles wishes there was a big bottle of whiskey in his hand, to soothe and erase everything that is suddenly cornering him and he has been trying to push away the last years. Emma's face is suddenly close. The memories of her laughter when they had been in high school, the way she would look at him across class, the way she could change his whole day with her smile and how the sun had played with her hair find him again. He remembers how he had tried to impress her with all his stupid moves, he remembers their first kiss. The memories of cool beers while he had been hanging out with her, _and Bass_ , are all there.

He remembers their first night together. He remembers her knowing smile. He remembers how her long hair had brushed against his chest after he had made her come in his arms, her name a strong hoarse whisper close to her ear when he had come, how he had felt and how she had felt, naked, soft and warm in his arms while his hands had moved over her smooth skin. He remembers how his hands had been trembling. She hadn't been his first, but she had been the first that had made that night more than just sex. And then, the memory he tries to block always finds him. How she had felt, holding her in his arms after she had died, _with the overwhelming sound of Bass' helicopter hanging in the air above them_ , is close.

But then, all the memories before that one crushing memory, and the soft understanding summer smile that was Emma, also makes him remember why he is here and what he has to tell Connor, even though it is hell standing in front of him. But he deserves to hear what he is about to say.

He can't chance what he has done, but _maybe,_ this will help the kid. Miles knows that Connor is struggling with his past, he knows that Connor is getting into fights and is drinking too much. He knows Charlie is trying to help, not only for Connor but also for Bass. They have never talked about this, but he knows she cares about the stupid asshole that he still considers his brother and that his brother cares about her. He knows how hard Bass struggles to reach Connor and how much it hurts both him and Connor. Emma would hate it, it would break her fucking heart.

'When Emma got word to me…I didn't know about you.' Miles pauses, to brace himself for what will be next. Connor looks straight at Miles. 'Bass was turning into a man I no longer recognized. The Republic was shaking on its feet. Emma knew you could be in danger. She begged me for help. I couldn't walk away from that. I never told Bass.'

Connor and Miles both know where Emma's reaching out to Miles for help had ended. It had ended with Miles showing up in Jasper, and Emma letting him leave with Miles to Mexico.

Listening to Miles hurts. The memories of his mother that are suddenly so close and vivid, hurt. He lets Miles talk but he can't talk himself. Connor swallows heavily while something raw and sad at the same time fills his eyes. The last time he was alone with Miles was when they had travelled from Jasper to Mexico. It has been years ago. And now, they are finally talking about something that they have never talked about.

'We really thought we did the right thing.' A heavy silence presses on both their shoulders. Miles' heartbeat feels more heavy. Connor swallows his tension away. Because there it is. The thing they have never talked about. The thing they _should_ have talked about. 'And...now I am not sure anymore kid.'

The raw truth lingers between them. Something changes inside of Connor when Miles admits what he is sharing with him right now. Time moves on slowly. Miles doesn't know what to say. Heavy guilt fills Miles' thoughts and his dark eyes.

So he waits and nods with heavy deep eyes, before he turns around and walks off the steps of the porch. He knows that Connor needs some time to be alone now. He is so much like Emma, she is right there in the way he needs his time to process things, in the way he pays attention to what is happening inside of everyone and the way he observes anything around him before he talks or does something himself and his gentle kindness that Connor only seems to show Charlie. _That's Emma_. That's so like her that it hurts so damn much and calms something inside of him at the same time. It makes him stop and turn around to face Connor again.

'I loved her, kid.'

Both men look at each other. Connor knows that Miles' words are filled with honesty. Miles is not the first that about his mom the way does. He remembers those same words, spoken by his father on a miserable rainy morning New Vegas. _For what it's worth. I loved her._ His father's voice is close when he looks at Miles. _They both loved her._

Connor still refuses to talk, but the gentle shift in his eyes to a friendliness that belongs to Emma tells Miles that Connor accepts his words. He waits for Connor's nod of acceptance. It's a wordless form of acceptance from man to man they both understand.

Miles knows it doesn't change one single miserable thing from the past, but it adds something less miserable to his heart. He knows Emma would have wanted Connor to know. He needs Connor to know she mattered to him and that he did what he did to help her.

Connor looks at Miles when he walks home. He slowly lets everything that Miles just shared with him swirl inside of him. It doesn't take away the pain. It doesn't change the past. But Miles showing up and willing to talk about his decisions in that the past and his part in it, finally silences some of the sharp edges of that past inside of him.

* * *

 _Author's Note_ I loved writing this chapter because I was able to explore more of all these characters, their emotions and where they are now at this point of the story. I also truly enjoyed writing more of Connor's story and to write about his loneliness, his memories and hurt and the darkness we saw in season 2 and Miles' actions and decisions that have made a lasting impact on Connor's life. I always wondered what would happen if Connor and Miles were able to talk about the past. I also wanted to write about Miles in this chapter, to explore more of his backstory with Emma and his past with her from the moment their story started. I really enjoy the flashbacks we got to see from both of them on the show. I want to thank you for your reviews and for following this story. I have been working on this chapter, chapter 15 and 16 for a while now. I want to publish chapter 15 later this week, hopefully around next weekend. Love from Love


	15. Chapter 15

Soft light streams through the small windows of the stables. Connor is adjusting the saddle on the horse standing in front of him while the friendly sounds of a small town linger outside. Flies buzzing through the air are adding more soft sounds to the afternoon. The stables are filled with the scent of wood and hay.

It has been two weeks since he has talked to Miles. He has been thinking a lot about what they have talked about, about his mom and who he used to be when he was still living his life in Jasper. He hasn't seen his dad. He just doesn't know what to say to him. He hasn't talked to Charlie. But when he looks up, she's suddenly there. He expects to find anger in her eyes. But it isn't there. He should not be as surprised as he is. Because this is Charlie. She is not like any other girl he has ever met.

He knows she has been trying to talk to him, he knows she has been trying to help him to deal with the fucked up mess his life is now. And he is grateful for her giving a damn about his life. She didn't deserve his silence and him walking away from her when he had stood so close to her and his dad weeks ago. But he just didn't know what the hell to do with himself.

'You are leaving.' Her voice breaks through the afternoon silence. It is not an accusation. It's just the truth.

He nods his _yes_. Even though everything in his life is fucked up, he hates leaving her. He knows she has lost so much already. She means something to him and he knows, although she has never told him, he means something to her. They are friends, but even more than that, they have survived the hell that has been their life since their parents had made decisions for them that had shaped their lives. And for the last couple of years, they have survived that hell _together._

'I know you don't understand…' His voice is low while he looks at her. He takes a step towards her, afraid he won't be able to make her understand. 'I have to be on my own for a while..'

Something changes in his eyes while an understanding smile appears on her face, moving from her lips to her eyes in a gentle way.

'I do understand Connor.'

It's like going back in time, because she remembers how she had felt right before she had left Willoughby behind, months after the Tower. Miles' scent is suddenly close and she can almost taste the tears from that day in the back of her throat. She had not wanted to leave, but life had given her no other choice. Things had been too hard and she had lost too much of herself. It took six months and finding Monroe to start finding herself again and to slowly return to who she was and to become who she is today.

'After the Tower…after we came back…my mom…Miles…we all did not know how to be who we were supposed to be. I tried, I really did. But I had to go…I had to leave it all behind for a while.'

Connor looks at her with a confused surprise in his eyes. And then, she tells him about the lonely months between leaving the Tower _and Nora_ behind and the day she had decided she could not take it anymore. She tells him about her mother's breakdown, she shares with him how lonely and lost she had felt and she tells him about Miles' guilt and his inability to deal with everything.

'I had to leave...'

Connor' eyes fill with empathy for what she has been through, realizing he is not alone with his endless lonely feeling of being lost. The question that Connor wants to ask is reflected in his eyes. She knows what he wants to ask, she knows Connor needs to know _what made her come back_. So, she tells him about the first time she had walked into New Vegas.

'I found your dad.' She looks up at him while her eyes tell the rest of the story. There they are, four simple words. But the meaning behind those words are reflected in her eyes. 'And I came back with him.

And just like that, the last piece of the puzzle that is his dad and Charlie together, finally makes sense. Somehow, it had been his dad, that had made her come back to her family.

'So I get it all right?' Charlie smiles at Connor. Connor slowly nods back with warmth in his eyes.

She keeps him company until he is ready to leave. Connor grabs his pack while he leads the horse towards the daylight outside of the stables Together, they walk towards the large wooden stable doors. Neither of them speaks. Charlie understands why he has to go, but having to watch him leave presses heavily on her shoulders.

In the shadows of the stables, between him staying and leaving, she looks up. His eyes are suddenly deeper and friendly, filled with all the good things between them.

Connor takes a step towards her. He moves his arms around her while he pulls her to his chest. She moves her hands towards his chest while she holds him.

'Take care of yourself.' Connor mumbles with a warm, hoarse voice into her hair.

'You too.' She answers, right before she has to let him go. She crosses her arms before her chest while he starts to walk away from him.

Connor's boot hits the sand of the path in front of him when her voice reaches him. He turns around. 'He loves you, Connor.' Her voice is filled with strength and warmth.

 _Bass._ They both know she is talking about Bass. Connor's eyes soften and Charlie knows that he has heard her. Her words come from the place deep inside of her that wishes her mom would have said those words to her on the night she had left, instead of looking at her through the kitchen window without saying a word, without trying to make her stop.

And then, he leaves. Charlie watches his wide shoulders that remind her so much of Bass. When she watches how Connor walks away from her and the heavy waves of goodbye wash over her, she isn't aware of Bass who is watching her and Connor from the shadows of the stables while her words and the way she defends his love for his kid, crash straight through the steel wall around his heart.

* * *

When Connor has reached the south entrance of Willoughby, Charlie's words won't leave him alone. He slows down. He stops. And suddenly he knows he can't leave this town and this life behind him without saying goodbye to his father.

* * *

When she is walking through the streets of Willoughby, Charlie's thoughts move from Connor to Bass. Her thoughts move to the man she cannot walk away from, no matter what has happened between them. It's the same impossible undeniable force that has always pulled her back to him, even on moment where it should not happen. Maybe he doesn't deserve it. But this is Bass, this is her, _this is her and him_ , so she still walks to his house.

When she spots his house in the distance, she stops when she sees familiar shoulders, dark curls and messy blonde curls and deep eyes that meet blue eyes. She is too far away to hear what they are saying to each other. But she doesn't need words to understand what is happening. Connor is standing right in front of Bass. He looks at him before Bass takes a step towards him and moves his arms around his son. It almost crushes her, to see the love and pride and hurt and endless pain on Bass' face when he holds his son right before he has to let him go.

She keeps her distance but she's unable to keep Bass' pain away from her own heart when she watches him when Connor turns around and walks away. Because she knows, she knows about people who walk away, who leave and the impossible amount of lonely hurt that remains when there is only silence left.

She fights her stubborn tears when Connor has finally disappeared on the horizon and Bass is still standing right in front of his home staring towards the point where Connor has disappeared to. His shoulders lack his usual deadly, steel strength. And somehow, he looks smaller.

She waits. She waits until the light changes and the changing light has taken the afternoon into the early night. She gives Bass time. But she is not leaving. She is not leaving _him_.

Bass stares at the road in front of him. He knows Connor is not coming back, no matter how long he is going to stand here. The sky fills with the red and pale orange of sunset. He slowly walks back to his porch before he walks into his kitchen. He sits down on one of the kitchen chairs. The silence around him is deafening. It reminds him of the silent halls of Independence Hall right after Miles had left. He moves his hand over his face while his chest fills with darkness. Tears that start to cloud his eyes are starting to break through the numbness inside of him.

And at the moment he is sure there is no one left, _she_ is there. He doesn't hear her coming. She's just there, standing so damn close to him. Bass can't talk. He can't look at her. He tastes the salt of his tears in the back of his throat. He can't hide them from her. A deep sob escapes from his throat. He knows it is pathetic. But he doesn't care. Not anymore. All the loss in his life reaches the surface.

Charlie is standing before a man that doesn't break. She is used to his deadly, destructive rage and need to destroy everything around him, _including himself_ , when everything falls apart. But she can see it in the way his hands are trembling, she can see it in the hollow blue of his eyes. He can't hide his hurt, _not anymore_. She takes one step closer until his she is standing between his thighs. She slowly wraps her hand around his head, her other hand moves to his back. And when Bass moves his head to her chest, she can feel the warmth of his tears against her skin through the soft fabric of her tank when he finally lets go.


	16. Chapter 16

Charlie's heart and whole body fills with how hard Bass breaks so close to her. A heartbreaking sound moves through the kitchen and through her belly. His raw, deep sob that contains so much loss and desperation almost brings her to her knees. But she is Charlie Matheson, she is a fighter, so she tells herself to stay where she is, _right there with him_.

Bass can't stop all the familiar and new hurt that fights to be felt first. When she moves her fingers through his hair before she wraps her slender hand around his head, while his head rests against her belly, one thought moves through his loneliness. She is here. _Charlie is here_. Bass senses the strength of her embrace, but his mind keeps on showing him Connor, who is standing right in front of him, telling him he has to be on his own for a while.

He had stood right in front of his kid, while the anger had finally faded from Connor's eyes and Bass had watched the depth in his eyes that contained so much more than the wall of anger Connor had placed between them both.

He had pulled his son close for a final embrace, realizing they both didn't know when they would see each other again. It's when the first tears battled to reach the surface and the numbness had started to spread. He had pushed it away and had focused on Connor, hoping he would understand he would always be there for him. Rage and disbelieve for what happened to both their lives, because Emma had hid him from him, _because his brother had helped her_ , had pumped through his veins. He lost his baby girl, and now he had to let go of his son, _his blood._

She is right there but the only thing Bass is able to see is his kid walking away from him and the raw truth of not knowing how to stop him. Because the truth is, he can't make Connor stay, and it doesn't mean one fucking thing if Connor doesn't want to stay. The only Bass is able to feel is the empty hurt of goodbye, not knowing what to do or say to protect his kid from all the hurt that is raging through his son because of everything his life had put him through _, without_ him being there to help his son.

And then her voice is there again. _He loves you Connor_. He had watched her, walking through town. He had wanted to talk to her without knowing how to talk to her. So he had followed her, to the stables close to the Porter house, realizing she was there and talking to his son who was ready to leave town. He had watched her, watching Connor when he had walked away. He had been standing in the shadows of the stables, when the look on her face had changed in such a beautiful fucking way that it had been hard to breathe. _He loves you Connor_. He had been standing there, frozen when she had defended his love for his kid with so much of her strength that it had been like taking a bullet. Bass has never heard her talk about him like this. It had meant so fucking much to him. He had been unable to move or to speak and had stayed hidden and out of sight until Charlie had walked away from the stables. Her words had kept him company on the way home.

While he rests his head against her belly and she is close enough to breathe in the scent that is so her, she finally starts to break through his wall of numb hurt.

Charlie holds her breath while he leans into her more heavily and he wraps his hands around her middle. Bass leans into her while she moves her arm around his shoulder. He knows he's crying and that it's fucking pathetic but somehow, it doesn't matter. Not anymore. He hadn't looked away when those assholes in that bar had drugged her, he hadn't walked away from her when she had needed him. After she had woken up she had told him to go to hell. But then she had collapsed in his arm when the drugs those assholes had given her had weakened her body again, but hell, _never her spirit, never who she is_. He hadn't looked the other way when she had been sick time after time, after she had woken up and they had spent a whole night waiting until the drugs had started to leave her body.

He hadn't looked away after Miles had dragged her with him and she had stood right in front of him in an alley in Austin, her tank soaked in blood, her blue eyes soaked with guilt after she had to kill the Neville kid. And now, she is not looking away from all the ugly heartbreak he can't fight. She is right there with him.

He doesn't deserve it after he has pushed her away, but she is still here. _Fuck_. _She is here_. He's finally realizing the magnitude of her being here. An overwhelming need to hold her, to breathe her in, to hold onto her and loose himself inside of her, starts to pump through his blood with every new heartbeat inside his chest.

He slowly starts to move. His large hands travel from her waist to her back. She doesn't move. He slowly gets up. He doesn't know what to say. Maybe there is nothing left to say. His eyes fill with shame and burning need when her eyes meet his. His own hurt is written in her eyes. He keeps looking at her while they slowly find each other. He cups her face with his hands. His calloused skin brushes against the soft skin of her face.

Charlie looks up while Bass finally gets up from his chair. He's like a wall of blue eyes and chaotic emotions and a wide chest and his scent close to her. Somehow, he feels even taller and wider while he is standing in front of her. His hands are still wrapped around her face when he leans towards her lips. He kisses her deeply when he presses her even closer to his chest. Her boots move of the wooden floor when he gathers her in his arms and lifts her in the air.

Bass walks her to his bed. He slowly lowers her back to the ground. Charlie is standing right in front of him. He keeps looking at her, making sure it's okay she is okay with him touching her. It's a small shift within the way she looks at him that make his hands move to her body. He pulls her tank over her head. His hands roam over her body on their way to her jeans. Charlie lets Bass undress her. She watches how he moves his shirt over his head and kicks of his boots until it is just him and her, _skin against skin_ , steel blue locked with strong blue and his hungry stare that finds her deep blue eyes.

Bass guides her onto his bed and she loses herself in the way he smells and feels and looks at her while she is pinned down between his battle hardened body and the softness of the mattress under her. She can't look at what's happened between them. She refuses to look at tomorrow. Charlie just knows that in this moment, they need to find each other while Bass moves his body over hers.

The weight of his body is almost crushing her, but it still isn't enough. She moves her legs around his waist to pull him even closer. His breath is close, he's hard, waiting and aching for her between her thighs, she tastes him and feels him while he soaks her up and breathes her in.

Charlie senses the change within Bass when he starts to kiss her with more force and his mouth claims every part of her body like he used to claim and conquer everything that belonged to his Republic. The steel want, wanting her _and how much Bass wants her tonight_ , is overpowering. He kisses her with an out of control hunger. When he fills her, Bass lets go with a deep grunt. The strength in his thrust is overwhelming and almost too much, so she searches for his eyes. She _has_ to see his eyes. When her eyes find his, there is hurt and chaos and steel inside of them, but then he kisses her and her body melts into his. And she knows he will take care of her.

They both know this will be and everything they cannot talk about. _Not today._ So when Bass dictates a heavy rhythm of him thrusting inside of her, she moves her arms around her neck and whispers his name into the darkness of his night and into his ear, to tell she is here.


	17. Chapter 17

Charlie is staring into the dark. Bass is sleeping behind her while his arm is wrapped around her body in a protective way. The salt of his sweat and the scent of the both of them sharing this night, lingers on her skin. It's quiet outside. The town is asleep. She should be asleep. But she isn't.

She can't sleep. She can't sleep because the memory of his voice thundering through his kitchen in a low growl, is close again. _Get the hell out._ His words spoken right after Connor had left his kitchen and she had wanted to take a step towards him, had left a scar inside of her.

She hates to admit it, she hates to look at how his words and the violent steel in his eyes aimed at her, had made her feel. Because his words have hurt her. And she hates it, but the hurt that his words have inflicted, makes her feel vulnerable.

 _Unpredictable._ That is what she once said to Miles after he asked her about Bass and he finally had the balls to ask about those first weeks she had spent with him after she had found him in New Vegas. It had been her answer to Miles when he had wanted to know if Bass came through for her.

Her answer hadn't been the whole truth, he had been more than that to her, but things had been so much different then. It had been so hard to look beyond her old wall of cold hate and loathing, knowing that Bass had taken care of her, knowing they were able to fight together, knowing his eyes finding hers shouldn't feel so normal and electrifying at the same time.

 _Unpredictable._ That is what her heart whispers to her, every time it crosses a line when it comes to feeling what she feels for Bass. But somehow, her heart has found a way back to him this night, just like it always seem to do. But that scares her for another reason. The force that is them together is so much.

And now, in the middle of the night, while she stares in the dark with Bass' warm and tall body behind her, there is one thing left. _Fear_. Fear for how much they are. Fear for how much he means to her. Fear, because she knows how much she means _to him_. And most of all, fear because of what she finds in his eyes, over and over again. No man has ever looked at her the way Bass does.

It's 4 a.m. in the morning. It's still dark outside while that fear spreads through her chest and whole body. And she is a Matheson. She doesn't _do_ fear.

So, she doesn't want to do what she's about to do. But in the darkness right before sunset, she softly moves away from him and out of his bed. She grabs her clothes, gets dressed and slowly walks to his bedroom door. She turns around. The pale moonlight brushes the lines of his hard body wrapped in his sheets, caressing the bare skin of his wide, strong shoulder blades with soft light. With her hand on the doorknob, she looks at him one more time before she tells herself she has to walk away. _Now._

* * *

Bass stares into the glass of whiskey he's holding in his hand. He knows that the girl sitting across the bar who has been trying to get him to leave with her and take her to his bed, is looking at him again. It should boost his ego, knowing he can still get any woman he wants. Knowing that if he wants to, he can lose himself in a quick and easy fuck.

But he isn't interested. Not tonight. He just wants to drink and for everybody to leave him the hell alone. It has been a month since Connor left. He has been drinking. He has been working. He has been battling his old lust for blood and destruction.

He has been doing his best to avoid Miles. But it's a small town and they still work for the same asshole. Blanchard is still a dick who likes to fuck around and mess with them so he has took more at Miles stupid' face then he wants to.

He hasn't talked to Charlie. He hasn't talked to her since she had left his bed _and him_ in the middle of the night. He had woken up to her not being there while her scent had been lingering on his skin and in his sheets. Her moaning his name right before she came pinned under his body, had been echoing through his empty bed room.

He had moved his hand over his face. And he had known. He had known she had left. And hell, he doesn't blame her. He knows he has fucked up by pushing her away after Connor had left. He knows she has been through so much. He knows what she feels for him, no matter how she is trying to deny that and outrun her own damn heart. And he knows she is a Matheson. They don't deal with that kind of shit well.

Bass puts his glass of whiskey to his mouth. He doesn't know what the hell he is still doing in this town. _Wrong._ He does. And it is fucking killing him and filling him with rage that after everything, he still can't let her go. She deserves him letting her go. But he can't. Because he is staying. He is staying _for her._

* * *

When Aaron watches the sky over Willoughby, he happily takes a swig from his flask. He likes the quiet of the day when it's just him and his whiskey. He takes another sip and lets his thoughts flow to where they want to flow until he sees a familiar black leather jacket in the distance. Aaron lets the whiskey burn in the back of his throat when he watches him. Monroe is his usual pleasant self, with a steel murderous blue reflected in his eyes and his hands tucked deep in the pockets of his leather jacket. _Perfect,_ he thinks, _just what this afternoon needs_.

Aaron knows something is wrong by looking at Monroe. Because lately, Monroe looks…well…he can't believe he is going to use _this word_ , but he looked happ _ier_ the last couple of weeks. Charlie looked happier. He knows they have found something with each other. But he has barely seen Charlie the last couple of weeks. And when he does, the grey clouds that have haunted her eyes for so long, have come back.

It hurts having to watch her struggle with something he can't help her with. And when Aaron sees Monroe, he's usually drinking at the bar in town, by himself, ignoring all the women that try to flirt with him or get a night alone with him. He never leaves with them, no matter how hard they all try to get a piece of the great General Monroe.

He knows Monroe's kid has left town. He barely knows Connor. But it's the talk of the town. He sighs. He knows he's _so_ going to regret it but Monroe looks so miserable that Aaron can't look away.

'Monroe.' His name flows through the street. When Bass looks up he looks straight in the eyes of Stay Puft who is sitting on his porch in front of his house, with his flask in his hand. Seeing that flask always makes him grin because he knows the story behind it. He knows it was Stay Puft who killed Drexel.

But today, he just sighs. He doesn't want to talk to anybody. But he knows that Aaron always manages to find to best whiskey in town and the truth is, he needs it. He slowly walks to him. Aaron hands him his flask which he willingly accepts. Bass leans into the wood of the porch, not feeling comfortable enough to sit down next to Stay Puft. He lets the whiskey burn in the back of this throat, while he is taking a moment to appreciate the way it feels.

'So, things between you and Charlie…' Aaron pauses, '…they are not going so well?'

An incredulous expression appears on Bass' face before shame clouds that look in his eyes. 'You know?' His voice is hoarse while he isn't sure what the hell to do now.

'About the both of you?' Aaron looks at him with a knowing, friendly grin on his face. 'oh, yeah, I do.' He enjoys the look on Monroe's face, knowing he has surprised the hell out of him. These kind of moments between him and Monroe are rare, he rarely sees a Monroe who doesn't know what to do with himself and he gives himself a couple of seconds to enjoy himself.

Bass grunts something inaudible when he realizes Stay Puft has known for a long time about him and Charlie. _Hell._ But then he realizes Stay puft knows, and he still hasn't light him on fire. And when he looks straight him, he realizes he knows and that in some fucked up way, he is all right with it.

But then Aaron's friendly grin turns into something more serious. 'You have to fight for her.'

He should feel irritated as hell because of the fact that Stay Puft is telling him what to do. But he isn't. He can't. Because Aaron..Stay Puft…whatever… is talking to him like he's a fucking human being. He is talking to him from man to man, knowing and realizing what he shares with Charlie.

'Why?' His voice is filled with a miserable kind of hoarse depth.

Aaron never thought he would feel the way he does about Monroe, because when he watches the raw hurt and fragile hope that appears on Monroe's face at the same time, he feels sorry for him and the way he is struggling so openly about this emotions. And finally, he might be able to understand what Charlie's sees beyond the cold steel and control that is Monroe.

Aaron looks straight at Monroe, forgetting about his whiskey, knowing Monroe needs to know. 'Because I stood next to her on the night of your execution. I stood next to her when she thought you were dead.'

Bass has never heard the other side of the story of that night. His heartbeat is beating heavily in his chest. His mouth feels too dry.

Aaron's mind flashes back to the night where Charlie's eyes had been filled with so much emotions, after she and Miles had realized they had not been able to break out Monroe, that he would die and that Rachel had played her part in that. He can still see her standing next to him in the middle of the crowd that had gathered on the town square, after the sound of the deep bells had flowed through town, her eyes filled with tears and loss. Charlie had told him she needed to find Miles, and knowing she had needed her space but unwilling to leave her alone he had followed her to the bar where Miles had been drinking his misery away.

'When she told us she wanted to go that night, Rachel just looked the other way.' Aaron can't keep the hurt out of his voice while he mentions Rachel and the cold look in her eyes and the small twitch around her mouth when she had looked away from Charlie that night after she had tried to tell her what Monroe did for her, how he had saved her life. That they needed him if they were ever going to defeat the patriots. But Rachel had been unwilling to listen to that part of the story. Bass' eyes fill with a flash of steel when he mentions Rachel before Aaron continues.

'Miles couldn't be there, he was too lost in his own misery. I think Charlie was trying to understand why she wanted to be there and why she wanted to see you one more time. I watched her struggle with her emotions. I watched the tears she refused to cry. But they were there. And now I finally get it. I watched her realize what she felt for you.'

Bass is stunned. He is staring in front of him while he loses himself in the memories of the day Texas had almost executed him. He remembers her standing outside. He remembers his words to her. _Take care of your uncle, kid_. But he never ever fucking realized what she had truly felt. When he saw her, the bitter part inside of him had believed she had been to make sure he would really die that day. But from the moment they had rolled him into town in a fucking cage like some animal, and her eyes had met his, the burning intensity and everything she had told him that day without words, the raw emotions and honest confusing pain in her eyes, had been too much. He had to watch away. But when he had stood right in front of her, thinking it would be the last time, he had found so much more in her eyes, making him brave enough to ask her to take care of Miles. And now, because of what Aaron told him about her, it all finally makes sense. _They_ make sense. Knowing she felt this for him, fills his whole damn chest with a warmth he can barely remember from a lifetime ago.

'I'm glad you were there for her.' Bass surprises himself and Aaron when he finally looks up and meets Aaron's eyes again. Aaron nods.

They don't talk after that. Aaron is quiet and lets Monroe think and stare. And Bass, Bass finally feels something more than knowing he has lost Charlie. He knows he has to see her, now. He is going to fight for her, he is going to fight through whatever will happen when he finds her. With a nod he thanks Aaron for the whiskey before he starts to walk away. Aaron smiles, knowing where Monroe is going next.

'Oh, Monroe?'

'Yeah?' Bass stops and turn's Aaron's way.

'If you manage to fuck this up and hurt her, I will find a way to kill you.'

Aaron expects Monroe to say something back, filled with arrogance or cold steel, but Monroe actually looks amused. 'Understood.' Bass' voice is deep while he looks at Aaron.

Aaron nods to Bass while they both share a look. The shared care and respect for the woman they have been talking about is reflected in both of their eyes.

* * *

When Bass leaves Aaron's place, she is right there with him with every step he takes. Bass knows things are probably over between them. And _fuck,_ he misses her. He has never deserved her. But after what he did to her after everything she has did for him, he knows he has probably pushed her away for good. But he can't walk away from her. He never has.

And after his talk with Aaron, he knows he can't let her go. He knows it's pathetic, but he has to see her. He has to talk to her. And maybe, _maybe_ , when he can get her to look at him, to really fucking look at him, and his eyes can find hers, than maybe, _maybe_ , she will listen.

* * *

A soft breeze moves from the garden behind her home through the open kitchen door and into her house. When she hears his boots in the kitchen behind her, Charlie knows it's Bass. It wakes something inside of her, something she has been trying to outrun since she walked away from him.

She has watched him, walking on the other side of the street, lost in his own world, his eyes dark and filled with steel. She has watched him through the windows of the bar, drinking, _alone_ , seeing all the women circling around him, trying to get his attention. She has been wondering if he had left with any of them, knowing it was none of her business anymore.

And now he is here. And her heartbeats starts to accelerate. She turns around to face him. It's the first time he's this close since she had left his bed, _and him._ She suddenly realizes how much she has missed him. She _hates_ how much she has missed him.

Bass meets her eyes. She looks at him with a calm blue in her eyes. _Her eyes are too calm._ He can sense everything she is trying to push away hiding in the blue of her eyes. Bass takes a step towards her, reminding himself of why he is here, the need to fight for her running through his veins. He remembers her on the first day she walked into his life in Philly. He remembers everything they had been from that day. And hell, he is not leaving. He's going to make her listen. He is going to show her he cares. He is going to fight for her. Because, she…Charlie…Charlotte…she is his. She belongs with him.

He takes a step towards her, realizing it makes something shift inside of her. And finally, her emotions break through the calm in her blue eyes.

'Don't..' She warns him with a sharp edge in her voice while he takes another step towards her.

Bass soaks her up with his eyes. Fuck, she is beautiful while she looks up at him with fire in her eyes. Her eyes finally fill with everything he loves about her, and everything that breaks him slowly inside at the same time.

He stops when he is close enough to touch her. 'Get away from me.' Charlie's voice fills with all the emotions she wishes she could hide from him.

Charlie can't look away. He is so close. He is too close. _He is not close enough,_ her heart and body scream at the same time.

Bass looks at her. Tears cloud her eyes. He's breathing harshly, his heart is beating heavily. Tears start to flow over the soft skin of her cheeks. They travel towards her mouth. When they flow over her lips, she can taste the salty reminder of how much he means to her.

'You hurt me.' Her words are as sharp as a knife while her voice vibrates with the force of her tears. The truth of her heart fills the space between him and her and she can't run away from the way his heart breaks for her hurt reflected in his eyes.

It's those tree simple words that bring him to his knees and break his fucking heart. He takes a step towards her. He tries to move her to his chest but she pushes him away. She pushes him away with all her strength but he tries again. And Again. 'I know baby, I know…' There is a desperate crushing amount of raw, hoarse honesty in his words. 'And I am so sorry.' He cups her head with his hands. His mouth moves over hers and his kiss is deep and overwhelming while he soaks up all her pain, pain he caused. He tastes the salt of her tears.

His raw apology fills her veins before it reaches her heart. Charlie can't move. Bass' kiss is filled with the same intensity that belongs to the man he is. She tastes him while he holds her closer than he has ever did, while the curves of her body meet the hard lines of his body. Bass can sense the exact moment when she finally lets go. The soft curves of her body melt and meet the hard lines of his body when he finally breaks through the last wall that has been standing between her heart and his.

* * *

 _Author's Note_ , I love working on this story but this chapter has been one of the most rewarding and exciting chapters I have written for this story. I loved writing a Charlie who feels fear, fear for what she feels and for what she and Bass have become. I also loved writing a scene between Aaron and Bass, and to include the scene from season 2 where Aaron is standing right next to Charlie on the night they think Bass is executed. It was a lot of fun to include his side of that part of the story and to let Bass realize what happened on that night, and how Charlie reacted. But most of all, I loved writing the last scene of this chapter, because Bass is finally able to really reach Charlie and break through her wall, _their wall_ , for good. Thanks for your comments and support, they mean the world to me! Love from Love


	18. Chapter 18

Charlie is standing in the doorway of his office. She is watching Bass, who's sitting behind a large wooden desk. Oil lamps are lit, adding soft light to his office. The light is brushing his curls. They seem to be more messy and wild after the long day she knows he has spent at his desk.

He is wearing his uniform. His eyes are focused, his face looks serious, his shoulders look wide in the late evening shadows of his office.

She soaks up the view in front of her. She has thought about the past before, she has tried to imagine him in Philly and the man he had been there. It had been the man she had met on a day she will never forget for so many reasons. She knows Monroe, the man she had brought with her when she came back to Willoughby. She knows Bass, she knows the man she is sharing her life with right now. And right there in front of him, are all these men.

He is reading a report and on his desk are many other reports waiting for his attention. She knows he enjoys where he is now. _She_ has accepted where he is now. She knows this is a part of him, to lead, to be in the position of power he has now. She knows that will never change.

He works hard. Sometimes too hard. She knows that every now and then he _almost_ loses himself again in his work, position and the control his position gives him. And he will never lose the raw edges that the blackout world slowly gave to him, but she knows he is good at what he does. He has earned the respect of the many high ranking officers that are surrounding Blanchard. He is slowly becoming the man again that people look to for leadership.

She once said he sucked at his job. And she had meant it. But she is finally able to see the man who is strategically strong, who can read people, who's intelligent and a survivor, and who is able to be and do so much more than she could have ever imagined.

Bass hasn't accepted Blanchard's offer to move north. She knows why. He wants to be here when Connor comes back. It has been almost a year since Connor left. They haven't heard from him. The fact he is still yearning for his son's return, almost breaks her heart. Because she knows Bass, and after being in his life for many years, she knows how much family means to him. He rarely talks about it, but she can see and understand his pain without having to talk about it with him.

His hand is wrapped around a glass of whiskey. He puts the glass to his lips and takes a sip. She enjoys the small moments of time where he is lost in work. But then she senses the change in his shoulders. When he realizes she is there, and he slowly looks up, the intense blue of his eyes catches her off guard when his eyes find hers.

Bass forgets all about the _boring as fuck_ report in front of him. Because hell, Charlie in a summer dress with her long blonde hair flowing over her shoulders and long, never ending tanned legs are one hell of a sight. Hell, the way she looks at him still fucks with his head, even after all those years. It still fills him with pride when she walks through the hallway and into his office, knowing she is here for him, knowing she is his.

It had taken her a while to walk into his office for the first time, _now months ago_ , and he had understood. He still remembers the first day she had surprised the hell out of him when she had finally walked into his office. She was on her way to the market in town and she had asked him if he had wanted to have dinner together. When she had asked that question she had held her head up high with her Matheson stubbornness, but he had been able to see the storm of her other emotions in her eyes she had been trying to keep away from him. It had been a simple question. He had known it had not been about the question. It had been her first step into this part of his life and accepting that silently and with everything she has inside her heart. It had meant the fucking world to him.

He had admired how much she has tried _and is still trying_ to accept the man he is. Because the truth is, he would go to hell and back for her, but there are certain things inside of him that cannot be changed. It's too late for that.

He can't change the things he still wants. He can't change the things he needs. And he knows she doesn't always like that, and hell, she will let him know with that burning Charlotte gaze in her eyes, but she doesn't walk away from him. They still argue like they once fought on the battlefield, she still stands in front of him like she once did when she had told him he was delusional with an unconscious bounty hunter on the ground next to them, when she doesn't like what is happening. She is still never afraid of him, she always tells him what she has to tell him. And he fucking _still_ loves that about her.

'Hey…' her voice flows through his office, pulling him back to the present.

Bass gets up from his desk, He puts the glass of whiskey on the table next to him. When she slowly walks over to him, her eyes move over the hard lines of his tall body before they find his eyes. She knows that he knows she can't keep his eyes away from him, not when he is standing so close to her with _that_ intensity in his eyes. He can still make her feel about ten different things in one second.

 _Asshole,_ she thinks. But then a gentle, honest and strong smile moves over his face, _a smile he only seems to show her_ , and knowing it is there on his face because she is there, soothes her irritation.

She stops right in front of him. She moves on her toes to kiss him. She never realized how tall he was until the first time he had kissed her roughly and deeply. The memory makes her smile against his lips. His scruff moves against the soft skin of her skin while he takes his time to kiss her slowly and softly. He pulls back a little. His nose nuzzles her hair.

'Hey..' his voice is low and deep, and she takes in the scent of whiskey on his breath, the scent she loves so much and that is so him.

She is late for her dinner with her mother and Miles. She still joins them when Miles asks her. Not because it is easy, but because they are still her family. She won't give up on them, even when things between her mother and her are still hard. But accepting that has made things easier.

'You could still come you know…' She tries, knowing that he and Miles are still trying to find a way to talk to each other, after their fight about Connor. Her eyes are bright and she smiles at him.

Bass smiles back at her without taking his eyes off her. _Fuck,_ he loves her for inviting him, _for including him_. He slowly moves a lock of hair behind her ear.

'I need to go through these reports before tomorrow.' He nods to the desk next to him. They both know it's not the reason why is not joining her for dinner. Charlie knows him, she knows he still does whatever the hell he wants, no matter what kind of bullshit Blanchard wants him to do.

But she also knows that Bass hates the struggle between her and her mother and Miles, and that he is trying to make things as smooth as possible for her. She knows it is why he is not joining her for dinner.

Bass looks at her. He knows she understands. He knows she is trying to make things work with Rachel. He knows how much it is hurting her that Rachel still can be her _holier than thou judgmental_ self. He knows that he and Rachel will never be friends. Too much shit has happened for that. And he knows that him going with Charlie to dinner tonight, only makes things worse for Charlie. And he hates seeing her get stuck in the middle of all of their past. Bass knows she can take care of herself. But he just doesn't want her to get hurt even more.

'But you go all right?' His fingers make a trail from her hair to her neck before he has to let her go. He needs her to know that he understand how important family is to her as well.

Charlie smiles and nods at him. Before she turns around Bass presses a light kiss into her hair. 'That doesn't mean I don't want to see you…later…tonight..' his eyes change, while they fill with a flash of desire, while his voice is even deeper '…in my bed.'

Charlie leans into his body for one second and with a will on its own. His voice is husky warmth, sounding like the whiskey in the glass on his desk. His words hold a promise of everything he will do to her later, when she moves her body against his and find him in their bed.

Her smile and everything that is hiding in there makes him forget all about his reports and whiskey. Bass follows her with his eyes when she walks out of his office and her summer dress slowly moves against her tanned legs, knowing he can't wait until he can wrap her in his arms when she finds her way back to him tonight.

He is still staring at the now empty doorway like a damn moron even now she has left. He pours himself another glass of whiskey. And there, leaning against his desk with his glass in his hand he lets the whiskey swirl in his glass while she is on his mind.

* * *

The evening sunlight brushes the rooftop of the Porter home. Charlie is sitting at the wooden table in the heart of the kitchen while an afternoon breeze plays with the curtains in front of the kitchen windows. They have talked about the food in front of them. They have talked about the weather. And then, her mother changes the subject.

'So, how's Bass doing?' Charlie almost rolls her eyes at the venom in her mother's words. Her mother always manages to make his name sound like an insult, every time she mentions him.

'Rachel..' Miles' voice is sharp while he gives Rachel a dark warning with his eyes.

'He's fine, mom.'

The unsaid _we are doing fine_ lingers loudly in the air between them. She knows her mother and Miles have known something is happening between her and Bass for months. Even before they had all returned to Willoughby, she knows they probably must have picked up on the fact that something was going on even tho she was still doing everything she could think of to deny or break what was happening between her and Bass. But they haven't really talked about it because they barely talk to each other. Until now. She knows her mother is hoping that things between her and Bass will break. She knows Miles wants her to be happy, although he's probably not happy about it.

'Why Charlie…' Rachel's voice fills with an intensity that belongs to her and only her, 'how can you be with him, how can you forgive him after everything that has happened?' Rachel looks straight at Charlie.

Miles is about to interfere but Charlie ignorers him. She can do this herself.

'You forgave Miles..' Charlie's voice sounds calm and strong at the same time while she mentions her mother's relationship with Miles that has grown after so many harsh, intense, dark years.

Rachel huffs at her with an incredulous look in her eyes. 'It's not the same Charlie..'

'Why not?'

'Because I love Miles.' Rachel replies, while she raises her voice.

Charlie feels the fire spread from her heart to her blood. 'Well, then it is the same mom, because I love _him_.'

She gets up from her chair, surprising both Miles, her mother and herself with the intensity of what she has just spoken out loud. But she knows it's the truth. It has been the truth for such a long time now.

Miles looks from Rachel to Charlie and the fire in her eyes. Even before she said what she had just said, he had known. Because he has seen her, he has watched Bass. He knows. Charlie locks eyes with her mother while the silence is heavy all of a sudden.

'I have to go now mom…it's getting late…' Charlie's voice is softer now. She doesn't want to fight. Not about this. She knows her mother will never see it the way she does. She knows her mom wears her scars. 'Thanks for dinner, take care of yourself all right?'

When Charlie walks out of the kitchen, she knows Miles is following her because of the heavy and familiar sound of his boots on the kitchen floor behind her. When she walks into evening air, Miles is right there with her.

Miles swallows. He understands Rachel, he understands all the broken things inside of her that will never heal, because he carries those same dark broken things with him. He knows about Charlie's scars, he knows about his brother's darkness. But somehow, they work. He hates the whole idea and he will kill Bass when he hurts Charlie, but he wants them both to have this in their fucked up world. He dreads having to walk back into the kitchen and face Rachel again, but right now, he's looking at Charlie while his heart swells with pride. Pride for Charlie, pride for the part inside of her that really sees him, and Bass, all of them, in their darkest hours. His heart aches for her in a good way, for knowing she hasn't lost her ability to love and forgive. Ben would be so proud of her.

Charlie doesn't know what to expect, but when she finally looks up, Miles' eyes are deep and filled with warmth. He looks at a point in the distance before he looks back at her.

'Take care of that moron.'

Charlie smiles at him and the bright strong stubborn happiness that flows through the blue in her eyes almost breaks his heart.

'I will, Miles.' She smiles. Because Miles doesn't realize it, but many years ago, Bass had asked her to take care of Miles. And she knows that no matter what, these two men will be there for her. No matter what happens, no matter what life throws at them. They will be there.

'Goodnight.'

'Night kid.'

And then she turns around and walks into the night, because the only place she wants to go to now, and the only man she needs and wants to be with right now, is Bass.

* * *

Author's Note I know it has taken me a while to publish this new chapter. I graduated in June which took a lot of time, energy and hard work. I am filled with joy now that I'm graduated! And that means I am able to enjoy reading and writing again. I love working on this part of the story and where it is heading. Thank you so much for your support! Love from Love


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